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THE 

Resentment 



> * > 

3 * \ 

1 3 » 


BY 

MARY ETTA SPENCER 



PRINTED BY 

A. ffl. IE. Inok (Cmtrmt 

631 Pine Street 
Phila., Pa. 


OEC -5 1921 



3>CI.A6 30580 


0 | 


^OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO: 


DEDICATED TO THE MEMORY OF MY 
MOTHER FROM WHOM I DERIVED 
MY LITERARY TALENT, AND 
TO THE GROWING BOYS 
AND GIRLS OF 
MY RACE 


ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo 



THE AUTHOR’S PURPOSE 


It is not my desire to write this book 
merely to show my ability to write or to win 
fame as a writer, but that I may write some 
little something that would inspire some boy 
or girl of my race to be willing to endure 
struggle, to become a man or woman of 
worth by refusing to stay on the ground 
floor, and thereby be classed as a “good-for- 
nothing,” by willingness to do hard and hon- 
est labor, by doing well whatever task is 
assigned you, by unselfish deeds, by pres- 
ervation of virtue, by alienation of vice, by 
determining your course, and if that course 
proves right, let nothing turn you from it; 
that determination backed by will-power 
and sticking to it through thick and thin. 

MARY ETTA SPENCER. 













* 


\ 





X 


CONTENTS 


Little Silas 7- 13 

The Awakening 15-26 

At Work in Earnest . . , 27- 54 

Seeing City Life 55- 73 

“Net” Determines Her Course 74- 84 

Step by Step 85-101 

“I Shall Not Always Be Called A 

Nigger” 103-118 

Obstacles 119-141 

Two Great Events 143-173 

Let Me Build My House By The 
Side of The Road and Be A 
Friend to Man 175-192 

The Reward 193-208 


Two Great Men Meet 


209-216 



CHAPTER I. 


LITTLE SILAS 

“Come on, come on there, boy, you must 
think you are owner of half this county in- 
stead of being- a good-for-nothing “nigger.” 
Come, hurry up, we have got lots of work 
to do today, with the sun two hours high 
already. And, by the way, a gentleman, a 
Mr. Walker, will be here today. He is one 
of the richest ranchmen in the West. Don’t 
for goodness sake, forget your manners, 
^and please remember to take off your hat 
to him. He is a great man, and, your kind 
must honor him,” said Mr. Baxter with a 
twinkle in his eye. 

Mr. Baxter was a wealthy white Southern 
farmer. He was talking to Silas Miller, a 
little colored boy. 

Silas had been hired to Mr. Baxter by his 
father about a year before our story begins. 
He was then a boy barely fourteen years 
old, small and delicate for his age. His 


8 


THE RESENTMENT 


/ mother died when he was twelve years old, 
leaving four children — Silas being the old- 
est. Two years later, his father married 
again. 

It was the custom in the rural districts 
of the South for parents to hire their chil- 
dren out as soon as they were old enough 
to do a little work for small sums of money,, 
monthly; and, very often, for food and 
clothing only. Silas, not being so strong, 
was not put to work so soon, but his father 
hired him to Mr. Baxter when he was four- 
teen years old, to do light work. Poor little 
fellow; at first he was so lonely, there being 
no children there. He missed the merry 
fun-making of his little brothers and sister. 

Pie was made to sleep over the kitchen 
stairs, away from the other part of the 
house. He would have died from fright had 
he not believed in God. On entering the 
dark room (he was not allowed to have a. 
light because they were afraid he would set 
the house afire through carelessness), he 
would kneel beside the bed and ask God to 
send “Mamma” to stay with him. Such 
childish faith ! In the next few moments 
he would be in dreamland. 

Humble and poor as they were at home, 
this child would have given worlds (had 


THE RESENTMENT 


9 


they been his to give) to have remained 
with them. 

He was permitted to go home two Sun- 
days in each month. He looked forward to 
these days as the happiest days of his young 
life. 

Silas had lived here over a year, amidst 
luxury and wealth. He did not have to work 
hard, yet little consideration was shown 
him, the fact being he was only a Negro 
boy. 

At work, he was a little slow, but what 
he did was well done. Silas is an unusually 
bright and quick-witted boy, and I doubt 
whether he shall be contented to work as 
a laborer for other farmers long. Of course, 
we don't want him to know what we think 
of him; it would make him feel important, 
yet we all love him and would hate to part 
with him," said Mr. Baxter in speaking of 
him to his friends. 

Little did Mr. Baxter know that he had 
said the words that, in years to come, would 
make Silas Miller one of the richest and 
most independent men of his race. 

While at work that morning, hot tears 
ran down Silas' face, his heart ached. “Why 
must I be reminded every day that I am a 
Negro, T try so hard to do what is right? 


10 


THE RESENTMENT 


But, it .is always “Nigger.” He looked at 
his dark, brown-skinned hands and won- 
dered why God made some white and 
others black. Stamping his foot upon the 
ground, he said, “But there is one thing 
certain, I shall not always be called a ‘nig- 
ger/ I am going to be a business man, and 
men will take their hats off — well, we’ll take 
our hats off to each other.” 

Dinner over, Mrs. Baxter asked her hus- 
band to let Silas stay and help her. She 
wanted him to motor to town with her and 
then help with the supper. Silas was elated 
because he was very anxious to see this man 
that they all seemed so excited about. 

Dressed in his Sunday clothes, with a 
white straw hat and a black tie, he was a 
picture, in spite of his color. 

“Now, Silas, don’t forget to take off your 
hat and say, 'Good afternoon, sir,’ ” said 
Mrs. Baxter for the twentieth time since 
they started. “Yes’m,” replied Silas slowly, 
wishing that she could think of something 
to talk about besides the taking off of hats. 

They arrived in town just as the train 
steamed into the station. Mrs. Baxter stood 
upon the platform scanning every face as 
the passengers descended from the train. 
“At length,” she exclaimed. “Oh, there he 


THE RESENTMENT 


11 


is.” Walking up to a tall, well-groomed 
man, “How do you do, Mr. Walker?” 

'‘Well, well, Mrs. Baxter, I’m fine, thank 
you; how are you, and all of the family?” 
he asked as he shook her hand. 

“Very well,” replied Mrs. Baxter, smiling. 

During this conversation Silas stood look- 
ing; he saw a fine example of a successful 
business man. His forty-odd years rested 
lightly upon his shoulders. His gray hair 
gave decidedly a touch of distinction to his 
appearance. He was an alert, progressive ^ 
ranchman from a Western State. Silas ad- 
mired this stately, refined looking man, and 
hoped with all his heart that he would not 
use the word “nigger.” He stood with hat 
in hand waiting and wishing that he would 
speak to him. He felt slighted at not being- 
noticed when Mrs. Baxter said, “Come, Mr. 
Walker, my car is over here,” pointing to a 
beautiful car a short distance away. 

Mr. Walker had not noticed that the boy 
was with them until they reached the car, 
and saw Silas struggling to HfMiis heavy 
baggage into the car. r “Hello there, little 
fellow; are you with us?” 

“Yes, sir,” Silas answered, his hat still in 
his hand. 

Seeing that the baggage was far too 


12 


THE RESENTMENT 


heavy for his child strength, he said, “Don't* 
child, don’t ! Let me help you.” 

“I can get it in, sir, if you give me time.” 
Silas was afraid of being called “good-for- 
nothing” before this great man. 

“Yes, my child, I shall have to give you 
ten years, I’m afraid, you get hold of that 
end,” pointing to the lighter side, “and I 
will take this end: now, both together.” 

Then Mr. Walker did what few colored 
boys of the South had seen a white man do. 
He took the little brown hands into his soft, 
white ones with their glittering diamonds, 
shook them and asked, “What is your 
name?” 

“Silas Miller, sir.” 

“Well, Silas, I am indeed glad to know 
you.” The child did not know what to say, 
but he did the right thing — he smiled and 
bowed his head, then he put on his hat. 

As they motored home, Silas wondered 
if Jesus was any nicer than this man. Mrs. 
Baxter also saw that Mr. Walker was dif- 
ferent from the men of the South, but said 
nothing. 

That night they sat down to a real South- 
ern supper of fried chicken and waffles. As 
Silas served the supper, he could not help 
noticing Mr. Walker’s cultured and refined 


THE RESENTMENT 


IS 


manner. Each time he whe served, he said 
“Thank 7011,” or bowed his head. “Ain't 
he grand?" thought Silas, “I do hope he 
will stay two whole weeks." 

Silas got up early the next morning and 
by ten o'clock had all of his work done. Mr. 
Baxter wondered what had come over the 
boy. “He worked well before, but now he 
is a wonder," he said to his wife. 



THE AWAKENING 


CHAPTER II. 

The second day of Mr. Walker's stay he 
motored with Mr. Baxter to visit different 
farmers. Silas was overjoyed at being per- 
mitted to go with them. He enjoyed hear- 
ing the Westerner talk of his ranch, his 
cattle and the beautiful mansion he had 
built for his wife and Ethel, their only 
daughter. He did not let one word escape 
his ears. 

The following Sunday was his day off, but 
he asked Mrs. Baxter if she wanted him to 
stay and help her with the dinner. She was 
delighted, but did not know what to make 
of Silas, as he was always so anxious to go 
home. The fact was, Silas wanted to get 
a chance to talk with Mr. Walker. How he 
Jioped against hope that Mr. Walker would 
remain at the farm that day. 

Sunday came, work done early, but poor 
Silas was very much disappointed. Mr. 


16 


THE RESENTMENT 


Walker had been invited out after dinner, 
so Silas slept part of the afternoon and af- 
terwards sat on one end of the front porch 
with his head resting in his hands, thinking 
what a big dunce he had been to have re- 
mained away from home. He did not know 
what a treat was in store for him. They 
had returned while he was sleeping. As the 
unexpected happens when we least expect 
it, so Silas was delighed when he saw Mr. 
Walker come out on the porch. “Well, 
Silas, why so quiet? I missed you so much 
this afternoon. I wished we could have 
taken you with us, but the car was filled, 
but you shall go with us tomorrow. Did 
you go home today ?” 

“No, sir, I stayed and helped Mrs. Bax- 
ter.” 

“That was fine.” 

Before Mr. Walker had time to say more, 
he was joined by Mr. Baxter and others. 
No one told Silas to go, so he remained 
where he was. 

Years afterwards, Silas said it was the 
crowning day of his boyhood. 

Yes,” said Mr. Walker, after a long talk 
with the other men on business and how 
they got their various starts in life. “Yes,” 
he said, and drew a long breath which was 


THE RESENTMENT 


17 


almost a sigh — as if it hurt to recall past 
years: “There were so many weary years 
in my life, I would often wonder if it were 
better to die than to struggle so hard, but 
I stuck to it.” 

Mr. Walker told how he had been left 
an orphan and at the age of eight, bound 
out to people who were so cruel to him; 
how he had worked ten long years without 
a dollar’s pay — only food and clothing. “If 
one can call one cheap suit, a pair of heavy 
hoots and two suits of underwear to be worn 
the entire year, clothes,” he added. “In sum- 
mer, I went barefooted and half naked.” 
Silas’ eyes were wide open. “Ten years! 
Good gracious, why, I would never get any 
clothes if I had to work ten years for them,” 
he thought. 

“How well I remember,” continued Mr. 
Walker. “There was a big circus coming 
to town, and for weeks all the boys of the 
neighborhood had looked forward to this 
day. I had never been to a circus, or a pic- 
nic or anything, so I made up my mind to 
go, too. When I asked one of the boys what 
it would cost, and he said ‘fifty cents,’ my 
heart sank. I had never had fifty cents in 
my life. The boys, seeing such a distressful 
look on my face, asked what was the mat- 


18 


THE RESENTMENT 


ter. I told them I had no money. They 
told me to ask Mr Jones, the man with 
whom I lived, for it. I told them I was 
afraid. They called me a ‘sissy' and other 
mean names. I waited until the day of the 
circus. During* the morning I asked Mr. 
Jones if he would let me have fifty cents to 
go to the circus in the afternoon. If I had 
asked him for his heart he could not have 
thought it any worse. Fifty cents ! Why, 
he thought I was insane. He knocked me 
down, then kicked me, and called me terrible 
names. I answered him back for the first 
time in my life, and there followed the hot- 
test words I have ever spoken. I had al- 
ways been quite an obedient boy, but that 
day I was almost besides myself. That dis- 
appointment was too great for me. 

“I wanted to die, but instead, I went to 
bed and slept, all the afternoon. I awoke, 
feeling better. I had decided that it was 
the last day I would ever work for him. As 
I ate supper that night, I said, ‘This is the 
last meal I shall ever eat here.' 

“Next day being Sunday, I got up early 
and got through with the milking. Then, 
instead of going to breakfast, I went up- 
stairs and tied up what few things I had in 
a small bundle. Mr, Jones sat at the table 


THE RESENTMENT 


19 


mating as I passed through the dining room. 
When he saw me, he asked, more tenderly 
than T had ever remembered hearing him 
speak. ‘Well, Tack, I suppose you are moving 
today?” 

“Yes, sir/ T said, 'I have a human heart 
and feelings; I am no longer a boy; I start, 
today, to make my way in this world; I must 
live as well as you/ Mr. Jones thought for 
a moment, then said, YVhat have you got 
to start with, young man?’ (sneeringly). 
'Two hands and will-power, sir/ 

“Taking his wallet from his pocket, he 
drew forth ten dollars and pushed it to- 
wards me, saying, 'There is ten dollars, take 
it and buy a little common sense/ Taking 
the money, I flung it back to him, telling 
him that he needed it more than I did. 

“Well, Mister, I wish you good luck with 
your two hands and will-power,” chinned in 
Mrs. Jones. ' You better stay here while 
you are here, 'cause you ain't goin' to be 
runnin' back here after you once go; you 
don't know that you are eating your white 
bread.' 

“I shall never trouble you, Mrs. Jones; I 
may come to see you, some time.” 

“Well, be sure that you don't need help 
when you come.” 


20 


THE RESENTMENT 


“I would rather starve than to ask help 
from you.” With these words, I left the 
house a free boy. 

“Until that day, I had almost been a help- 
less boy, but as I left that farm, I felt the 
responsibility of manhood. I walked about 
fifteen miles to a little town called Rocks- 
ville ; there I met a farmer who was in need 
of a hand. He promised to give me ten dol- 
lars a month, which was considered good 
wages for a young fellow, at that time. I 
worked there for three years. During that 
time, I bought a little calf, and when it was 
old enough, Mr. Snithers sold it for me for 
five dollars. You can picture my joy. I 
really thought I was rich. I put the money 
with some I had saved and bought two 
more. Seeing my determination to get on, 
Mr. Snithers let me raise cows on shares — 
he taking a third of all that were raised. 

“At the end of the third year I had saved 
two hundred and fifty dollars. I attended 
the district school during the winter months, 
and had learned to read and write well. I 
took special interest in arithmetic, for I 
realized that this subject was most impor- 
tant to a business man. ITaving success in 
raising these cattle stimulated my deter- 
mination to become a cattle rancher. With 


THE RESENTMENT 


21 


this point in view, I left Mr. Snithers and 
went West, and there hired to one of the 
largest cattle raisers in the State of Wy- 
oming. I lived there four years, learning 
ihe business. I had my ups and downs and 
would often say, ‘At the end of this week 
I shall leave and learn something easier/ 
Then I would think of the years I had strug- 
gled. If I gave up, now, it would mean 
wasted time and possibly lost opportunity. 
So, I toiled on and on. I bought fifty acres 
of land and saved enough money to start 
business on a small scale. 

“It was just four years and six months 
from the day I arrived in the West until I 
started in business for myself. 

“Fortune seemed in my favor. With help 
and encouragement from the other ranch- 
men, I gained rapidly. I adopted the habit 
of not getting too deeply in debt; if so, I 
worked hard and paid it off as soon as pos- 
sible. Soon, I became what they all called 
a shrewd business man. After two years — 
how well I remember — one day an old ranch- 
man came to me and said, ‘Walker, you are 
getting along fine, but you haven’t started 
right/ I looked at him astonishedly, and 
asked what was wrong. 

“Whole lot is wrong,” with a smile. 


22 


THE RESENTMENT 


“I did not understand, but stood looking 
at him, trying* to fathom his meaning. ‘Well, 
boy, you ain’t got the jewel here.” 

“The jewel, the jewel?” I exclaimed. 

“No, you ain’t got no gal.” 

We both laughed heartily. 

“Now,’ he said, slapping me on the back, 
“you look ’round here and get married to 
some good gal and you will be all right.” 

“I took his advice and a year later was 
married to one of the best girls of the West. 
I have given that advice to many other 
young men. Get married to the right girl 
while you are young— better than diamonds. 
Today I am a wealthy man, a happy husband 
and a proud father ; but it was through Re- 
sentment to a long-standing injustice that 
1 found my path to success.” 

All enjoyed hearing Mr. Walker’s story 
— how he battled his way from a penniless 
country boy to position and wealth ; but no 
one enjoyed it more than Silas Miller, who 
sat unseen and unheard. All that was said 
was food for his hungry soul. 

Mr. Walker talked long into the evening 
of his investments and other interesting 
things. There was no egotism in his talk, 
only plain, every-day facts. 

That night, when all were fast asleep, 


THE RESENTMENT 


23 


Silas lay awake far into the night. He had 
heard the great Westerner talk and had de- 
termined to become a great man, too. But 
he did not know what to do. He thought 
of raising chickens, of horses and sheep; 
but, as hard as he thought, things did not 
seem to plan out right. Just as he had about 
given up thinking, he thought of hogs. 
“There,” he said to himself, “I shall become 
a ‘hog ranchman/ ” With this thought up- 
permost in his childish mind, he fell asleep. 

During that week, Silas racked his brain 
with plan after plan, but, small as they 
were, they were the foundation of his future 
work. 

The next Sunday a proud and happy boy 
wended his footsteps homeward, a boy full 
of hope and ambition. It was pleasing to 
see how much he had learned from Mr. 
Walker in such a short time. When he en- 
tered the house that day he was a new 
Silas; the other children did not know what 
to make of him. Taking of* his hat, he call- 
ed, “Good morning, papa and mamma,” and, 
after speaking to his sister and brothers, 
he asked how they all had been getting 
along. “I stayed at the farm my day off 
two weeks ago. It seems like a year since 
I last saw you all.” 


24 


THE RESENTMENT 


“Think you better stay there your Sun- 
day off, next time, and learn more airs,” 
said his mischievous sister, Nett. 

Silas felt a little hurt at this unexpected 
remark. He had tried so hard to be nice 
and had hoped the others would see it. 

Poor little fellow, lie did not know that 
these children were not able to grasp his 
meaning so quickly. 

It was rather amusing at dinner to the 
children, with Silas saying, “I thank you” 
and “Please pass this,” or “May I have a 
glass of water.” Yet, as funny as it seem- 
ed, they soon began to imitate him. 

After dinner, Silas called his father and 
said, “Papa, I want to talk with you awhile.” 

“Well, son, what is it?” 

“I want to start in business for myself, 
next year. I/m not going to work all my 
life for folks to be called a 'nigger/ and he 
laughed at.” 

At first Mr. Miller was inclined to laugh, 
but, seeing the child was so much in earnest, 
he said, “Well, Silas, what are you going to 
do?” 

“I had thought that I — , or you and I 
would raise hogs, papa; don't you think we 
could?” 

“Silas, I think that is a capital idea, but 


THE RESENTMENT 


25 


I am going to let you depend on yourself; 
you can have that acre of ground at the end 
of the wheat field. Then I shall let you 
have all of your wages from now on. That 
is all I can do. You must manage your own 
business. I am only a hard-working man 
and know little or nothing of business. ,, 

Silas was pleased. He nearly hugged the 
life out of his father, and went back to work 
a happier boy. 

There was still more happiness in store 
for him. As he was working Monday morn- 
ing, Mr. Walker came out into the yard to 
watch him feed the chickens. “Good morn- 
ing, Silas; you certainly are an industrious 
boy. You will make a splendid young man. 
What do you intend to do when you grow 
up?” he asked. 

“I am going to raise hogs, sir, and I’m 
not going to wait until I grow up — Tm go- 
ing to start now.” 

“Good, I say, boy, you have the right idea. 
When do you think you shall start?” 

“Next month, sir.” 

Placing his hands upon Silas' shoulder, 
Mr. Walker said, “You have determined 
your course. Unless it proves wrong, let 
nothing turn you from it. Remember, my 
boy, great men whom the world honors to- 


26 


THE RESENTMENT 


day, did not make their way in one single 
ieap, but step by step. You may encounter 
many difficulties on the way, but with de- 
termination, you can overcome all things/’ 
Putting a ten dollar bill in his hand, he con- 
tinued, “I give you this to help you to get 
a little start, but, remember, Silas, the abil- 
ity to become a successful man will not de- 
pend upon what others give you, but upon 
the man within you. It will mean many 
hours of hard work and much sacrifice of 
pleasure, but stick to it. I am leaving here 
in a few days, but shall carry you in my 
mind always. I hope to have you as a visitor 
at mv home, some day.” 

With this encouragement, Silas began his 
life’s work. 


CHAPTER III. 

AT WORK IN EARNEST 

The following weeks were great ones for 
Silas Miller. Mr. and Mrs. Baxter said he 
grew over night from a playful boy to a 
strong, thinking man. Mr. Walker had 
lighted the torch to Silas’ ambition and it 
had burned briskly. 

A month had passed since Mr. Walker’s 
visit. One day Mr. Baxter was astonished 
when Silas walked up to him and asked him 
how much did he want for the six little pigs 
that he had in a separate pen with their 
mother. 

“Well, Silas, I hadn’t thought much about 
them: they are quite young, yet, to take 
away from their mother. Did some of the 
farmers ask you how much I wanted for 
them?” 

“No, sir, I want to buy them.” 

“You want to buy them? Why, they are 
too young to kill for camp-meeting.” 

“I don’t want them to eat (impatiently); 
I want to buy them to raise, myself.” 


28 


THE RESENTMENT 


“Hump,” said Mr. Baxter; he did not 
know what else to say, he was so surprised. 

“How much do you want for them?” con- 
tinued Silas, anxiously. 

Mr. Baxter rubbed his head and thought 
for a moment, then said, “Well, Silas, I will 
sell them to you for twenty dollars.” 

Poor Silas was surprised that they should 
cost so much, but he quickly survived the 
shock and asked, “How much do you want 
down?” 

“Not less than half, Silas.” 

His face beamed with joy as he said, “All 
right, Mr. Baxter. I shall take them.” 

“When will you pay me the money?” 
asked Mr. Baxter, a little puzzled. 

“I have it now, sir.” 

“Very well, then, you can make the pay- 
ment today, if you wish.” 

Silas started to give Mr. Baxter the ten 
dollars, then he asked, “Mr. Baxter, shall 
we go to the house and sign papers?” 

“Y-yes, Silas, that’s the way to do busi- 
ness,” he answered, looking at the boy out 
of the corner of his eye, and thinking what 
a bright little chap he was. 

In the house, Mr. Baxter and Silas sat 
down to a table and made out the necessary 
papers. This incident brought the little 


THE RESENTMENT 


29 


black boy and the white man nearer to- 
gether than any other thing had. 

From that day, though Silas was still a 
Negro boy, Mr. Baxter began to see him 
from a different view-point. He was ready 
to give him as much encouragement as had 
done the great Westerner, but in a different 
way, because it would take more than a few 
days to make this Southern-born man see 
that this child, created by the same God as 
he, had the same right to opportunities and 
privileges as the white man, yet, this was 
the beginning, and, already this step had 
brought forth great consideration. 

He told Silas he could let the pigs remain 
in his field and that would save him the cost 
of buying food for them. Thinking for a 
while, Silas then asked how much he would 
charge for their board. 

“Why, nothig at all, Silas. 1 ” 

“Will you write that on a piece of paper 
for me? Then I will be better satisfied.” 

“Why, Silas, can’t you take my word?” 
said Mr. Baxter, a little hurt that Silas did 
not trust him as did most colored people. 

“Yes, sir, I trust you, but nobody hears 
the bargain between us.” 

“I must say, Silas, you are starting right; 


30 


THE RESENTMENT 


I shall do as you ask, then there will be no 
trouble.” 

When Silas went home the next day he 
had off, he could hardly wait, he was so 
anxious to tell of his purchase. He found 
his father walking around, looking over his 
truck patches. “Hello, there, Pa; bet you 
can’t guess something?” 

“No, not unless you are going crazy; I 
certainly thought something had happened 
the way you were racing against time or 
dust. I don’t know which— when I first 
spied you.” They both laughed. 

“No, dad, I ain’t crazy, I’m all filled up 
with joy. I bought six little pigs and their 
mother.” 

“You don’t mean it, Si!” 

“Yes, sir, and I have them half paid for. 
already.” 

“W ell, you can have all you make to finish 
the payment. I won’t bar the door of oppor- 
tunity against you by taking your money, 
as long as I can posisbly do without it. You 
just go right on, I am sure you will do the 
right thing. Si, you were your mother’s 
heart; she was so fond of you. For her 
sake, I should like to see you prosper.” 

The children crowded around and looked 
with childish pride at their brother, Si, who 


THE RESENTMENT 


31 


had learned so many “airs” and was going 
into the pig-raising business. 

“Why, Si, you’re getting to be just won- 
derful, ’’ said Nett, who was never lost for 
something to sav.” 

“Thank you,” he answered, without pay- 
ing the least attention to her bantering re- 
mark. Seeing this, Nett abandoned her plot 
to tease. 

Months passed quickly by. Silas worked 
hard during the day and studied at night. 
ITe had made it a rule to study each night 
before going to bed. (Mrs. Baxter permit- 
ted him to have a light in his room with the 
promise that he would be very careful with 
it.) He was astonished to see how swiftly 
he improved by this method. 

One of the things that pleased Mr. Bax- 
ter was, as anxious as Silas was about his 
own business, he never neglected to do his 
duty towards his employer. In this Mr. 
Baxter encouraged him very much by say- 
ing, “You will certainly be a successful busi- 
ness man, you put both self and love into 
your daily work; no man can fail who does 
this.” These words were worth hundreds 
of dollars to this boy. 

At the end of six months, Silas paid the 
last dollar that he owed Mr. Baxter and be- 


32 


THE RESENTMENT 


came the owner of the pigs. Can you, dear 
reader, imagine the joy that swept through 
the heart of this young boy when Mr. Bax- 
ter said, “Silas Miller, you deserve to be 
the owner of a hundred pigs, so faithfully 
have you worked, and in less than six 
months you are entirely out of debt? That 
is right, keep as far from debt as you pos- 
sibly can. ,, 

“Yes, sir, that is what Mr. Walker said 
he did,” answered Silas. 

“Did Mr. Walker tell you that?” 

“No, sir, not exactly, but he said it was 
the best way.” 

This was the first time that Mr. Baxter 
noticed that Silas was drafting a pattern. 
“Whoever follows in the footsteps of Mr. 
Walker will become a conscientious, suc- 
cessful man, I can say that much.” 

“Silas, I am afraid that we Southerners 
have been made to look upon your race as 
though it was just to exist, but Mr. Walker 
sees it differently. It will take many years 
for the people of the South to come to this 
knowledge, but, nevertheless, we shall grad- 
ually awaken to it.” Silas bowed his head 
as he usually did when he did not know just 
what was right to answer. 

A few days later Silas drove his litter of 


THE RESENTMENT 


33 


pigs home. “Look, Papa,” he cried as he 
came into the yard, “ain’t they grand?” Be- 
fore his father could get to the door, Nett 
exclaimed, “Good gracious, Pa, it’s Si with 
his gang of pigs.” “You hush, Miss Nett, 
or I shall box your ears,” said Mr. Miller. 

The little pigs started to squeal very loud 
as they came into the strange yard; they 
were tired and hungry. 

Nett, with her little hands on her hips and 
her large, brown eyes rolled upwards, said 
in a very exciting manner, “I know them pigs 
squealing shall get on my nerves and there 
shall be no living around here with me.” 

“For goodness sake, Nett, who cares for 
your nerves?” said John, a younger brother. 
“You can stay anywhere that suits them.” 

Their father, hearing this conversation, 
commanded them to hush. They all quickly 
obeyed. 

While Nett was mischievous, she was also 
very kindhearted and industrious, and was 
the first to offer her assistance to care for 
the pigs. She started to work in the early 
morning, as Silas had left them in her care, 
his father being too busy and away from 
home most of the time. 

After feeding them their dinner, she got 
a piece of an old box top, sat on the ground* 


34 


THE RESENTMENT 


and printed in large letters: STOP, LOOK 
AND LISTEN. A WHOLE LOT OF PIGS 
FOR SALE— HIGH BRED, ALL KINDS 
AND KOLORS. CALL AT OUNCE, 
PLEASE PAY CASH. 

She was nearly frightened to death when 
a farmer drove up to the house. He called 
several times before Mrs. Miller heard him. 
She went out to see what he wanted and 
was nearly shocked out of her wits when he 
asked to see the pigs they had for sale. He 
also asked how much they wanted for them 
and of what stock they were. 

Mrs. Miller stood with her mouth partly 
open, hardly knowing what to say. “Who’se 
got any pigs for sale? ,, 

“Why I thought you had: I saw a large 
sign in the back lot near the main road, 
reading: ‘Pigs for sale/ ” 

“I don't know anything at all about it; our 
Si bought a sow and its litter some time ago, 
but I understand he had calculated on rais- 
ing them.” The stranger had hardly finish- 
ed talking when another farmer stopped to 
ask the same question. Nett had seen and 
heard the men and had taken refuge behind 
the barn, so no one could tell where she was, 
neither did anyone know who put the sign 
up in the back lot. “Well, I am going down 


THE RESENTMENT 


35 


to see what kind of a sign that is. If Si 
was going to sell the pigs I think it was as 
much as he could say the same and not have 
me standing here like a fool with a hundred 
farmers a riding here asking me about pigs 
and what stock they are, as if I knew the 
pedigree of pigs,” said Mrs. Miller, perplex- 
ed. 

Mrs. Miller started for the lot, but Nett 
had stolen from her hiding place and re- 
moved the sign, so, when she got there, no 
sign was in sight. She stood and looked 
as far as her eyes could see, then said, “They 
certainly must be seeing things, there ain’t 
no signs here, and the next old dunce that 
stops here and asks me about pigs for sale, 
I’m going to give him a piece of my mind.” 
But no more called. 

Nett felt rather shaky about her mischiev- 
ous prank and staved away all of the after- 
noon, fearing a scolding from her step- 
mother. She did not go to the house, but 
towards evening, went to meet her father 
and told him what she had done to help Si 
sell his pigs. “Why, Nett,” he said, “I don’t 
know as Si wants to sell his pigs yet; not 
until spring, if he sells them at all.” 

“I put up a sign and when some men stop- 
ped and asked about them, I took it down. 


36 


THE RESENTMENT 


I thought I had better wait until you came.” 

“I am glad you did; Si will tell us what he 
wants us to do, then we will help him as best 
we can.” Nett was overjoyed when (her 
father did not scold her. 

Mrs. Miller told her husband of the 
strange calls during the day and he explained 
to her what Nett had told him. 

The next month being December, it is an 
old custom in the South for hired men to 
work from the first of March to the twenty- 
fourth of December; this day. they all leave 
firesides with their families until spring 
again. After the holidays, Silas began to 
plan for the coming year. He did not care 
to work for Mr. Baxter again unless he con- 
sented to give him more money. This, Mr. 
Baxter did not see as being necessary and 
Mrs. Baxter added that his kind had worked 
for her father for nothing. “Yes’m, but that 
was fifty years ago. Do you think that my 
people could live in a progressive country, 
in a progressive age, and not grasp the pro- 
gressive spirit?” asked Silas, in a reproach- 
ful manner. 

“Yes, Silas, you quote that which is true, 
with that spirit you will get on even if you 
do not work for us.” 

They both really liked Silas and hated to 


THE RESENTMENT 


37 


see him leave them, but could not think of 
paying him more money. 

It was New Year’s Day. Silas sat read- 
ing the “Ad” column in a Philadelphia news- 
paper; at last he came to this ad: “Boy want- 
ed to help on farm: must have previous 
knowledge of farm work and care of hogs; 
Southern colored boy preferred. Reference 
required.” Reading it over to his father, he 
asked his opinion. Mr. Miller said little, 
but told him to go over to Mr. Price, his 
teacher, and ask him to help him to answer 
it. The letter was written and mailed. 
Each day Silas looked anxiously for the rural 
mail carrier. It was nearly two weeks be- 
fore the long-looked-for letter came. The 
man not only answered the letter, but stated 
that he would refund his fare as soon as he 
arrived; that he did not want him until 
spring, and if this was satisfactory to him, 
he would not look for anyone else. He was 
willing to give the wages Silas asked for and 
said that if he proved to be a good hand, he 
would raise him after two months, five dol- 
lars more. 

When Silas read this letter he was elated. 
In plainer words, he was wild with joy. 

“Isn’t this great, Papa?” 

“Yes, Si, it is fine,” said Mr. Miller slowly. 


38 


THE RESENTMENT 


“but I kinder hate to see you go so far away 
from us.” 

“But, Papa, it will only be for a little while*, 
you know how anxious I am to get started 
and it will take me so long with the small 
wages I get here.” 

“But, son,” his strong voice quavering, . 
“I’m afraid when you once get away, and 
get a glimpse of city life, and Northern free- 
dom, you will forget both us and your busi- 
ness.” 

“No, Papa, I want you to trust me and 
pray that God will direct me. Papa, you 
know they say you can get a broader knowl- 
edge of life and business in the North where 
you come in closer touch with both races* 
It will help me so much and prepare me to 
battle with the problems of the business 
world.” 

His father thought a while, then said : “I 
guess you are right. Si, as I said at first I 
would not put stumbling blocks in your path- 
way; I shall keep my promise; you may go. 
What are you going to do this winter?” 

“I’m going to school ; I must know a lot to 
be a good business man.” 

“Very well, that’s a good plan.” 

.School opened on the second of January. 
Two weeks later Silas started. Nett and 


THE RESENTMENT 


39 


little John had started, and they were proud 
that Silas was going, too. That morning, 
while all were preparing for school, Nett 
asked Silas who was going to care for the 
pigs while he was away. 

“I was going to ask you, Nett. I know 
you will do your best. Of course Papa will 
help you.” 

Nett opened her eyes wide and trying to 
look astonished, asked, “Who, me?” 

“Yes, Nett, you. No one would take care 
of them better than you.” 

Nett was really pleased to know that her 
brother would trust her with his pigs, and 
.Silas knew this. “Well, if I must, I shall,” 
she said, tossing her head on the side, and 
scampering away to the mirror to see if she 
had grown taller over night. 

“For the love of Mike, come on, we shall 
have to start to raise looking glasses , if Nett 
continues to plaster herself up before that 
one all of the time. No one can get a chance 
to see, for her,” said little John. 

“Good night, Moses ; we shall soon have an 
orator in the family if John keeps on making 
such fine speeches.” 

“Children, stop quarreling and get off to 
school at once or you’ll be late!” said their 
mother. 


40 


THE RESENTMENT 


News had spread quickly concerning Silas* 
plans. When he walked into the school 
room, that morning, a number of boys were 
standing around the stove. As soon as they 
saw him, some started to squeal as loud as, 
they could — imitating hogs. Others grunt- 
ed and still others got down and walked 
around on their hands and feet. 

Earl Green asked how many pigs could 
he buy, as he wanted two dozen at once.. 
Silas felt hurt at these sneers and remarks. 
He was nearly in tears when Nett came to 
his rescue, saying, “Don’t let the boys tease 
you, Si, they will be sniggling and working 
for other men when you will be your own 
boss.” 

At this remark, many hushed, others, 
laughed louder. It did not matter much 
now to Si — Nett was in sympathy with him, 
and he cared little what others thought or 
said. 

When Mr. Price came in a few minutes 
later, he went forward and shook Silas’ 
hand, saying, “I am glad to see you here. 
You know you are nearly through the eighth 
grade, and I am sure vou can finish in two 
months if you try hard. I am also glad to< 
learn of your success in securing the position 
you wrote for. We shall be sorry to lose 


THE RESENTMENT 


41 


you, but glad to know that you are making 
such a good start.” 

Silas was much beloved by his school- 
mates, but they were a little jealous of his 
determination to become a business man. 

Let us stop here a moment and say for the 
sake of some boys and girls, that envy and 
hatred are two enemies that rots the very 
souls of men. They who hate their com- 
rades because they possess the ability to be- 
come more successful than themselves, have 
within them souls that have no magnetic 
personality. They are hopeless and make 
shiftless men and women. They are the 
ones that fill the courts, the jails, the re- 
form schools, the homes for the incorrigi- 
bles. But if they possess lifting qualities 
and help others, they are also lifted. It is 
also true with many as they succeed in life : 
they makes enemies instead of gaining 
friends. 

The two months in school passed quickly 
for Silas. He studied hard, but at play, he 
was foremost in all sports. On the twenty- 
eighth of February, he said good-bye to his 
schoolmates and took farewell leave of the 
rural district school where he had spent most 
of the joys and sorrows of his childhood. 
These he was leaving behind him to take his 


42 


THE RESENTMENT 


place in the wide world; to share, as had’ 
others, the struggles and disappointments 
to win fame, honors or successes or what- 
ever Fate had in store for him. 

The following evening, Mr. Price asked Si- 
las to come to his home. Never was he more 
surprised when he walked into that house 
that night : all of his schoolmates greeted 
him : it was a surprise party. 

Seated around a beautiful table, twenty- 
eight boys listened to their teacher. Mr. 
Price took for his subject “Unselfish En- 
couragement. ” ITe talked until their young, 
undeveloped minds seemed at length to 
grasp his meaning. At the conclusion each 
boy stood with his left foot upon his chair, 
and with lighted candles in their right hands, 
held high above their heads, and pledged in 
thunderous voices these words: “Silas Miller, 
we, your comrades and schoolmates, light 
your pathway through the darkest hours 
and wish you all the success that mortal man 
can obtain in this world. Our hearts and 
hopes are all with thee.” 

“It is just one of the things I want you to 
always remember, Silas,” said Mr. Price. 

The sneers and curt remarks of the boys 
were all forgiven and forgotten; there was 
not a boy who was not sorry to see him go. 


THE RESENTMENT 


43 


The memory of that party, the handshakes 
and good-byes, Silas Miller carried with him 
to his grave. 

Silas' leaving home was the gossip for 
general discussion in the community. 

Aunt Mollie Noble, widely known as the 
“newscarrier," and who never forgot to 
voice her opinion of the same, called on 
Sister Maria Dudley, Sunday, after church. 

“Good marnin, Sis Maria, how is vo' to- 
day ?” 

“Only tollable, Aunt Mollie, come in!" 

Aunt Molly stepped in almost out of 
breath. Sitting down on the first chair she 
came to, she said: “Ah jest came ovah for 
a little while after church. I thought I would 
stay 'ntil Sunday schule stahts." 

“Sho, Honey, glad to hab yo', take off yor 
t’ings. Did yo' hab a gran' sermon dis 
mornin'?" 

“Yes'm, very good, but everybody is dat 
'cited 'bout de Millers dat no one scare know- 
ed what de preacher said attall." 

“Is dat so?" 

“Yes'm, vo' know Silas Miller leaves fo' 
de No'th, Monday?" 

“Yes'm, Aunt Mollie, I hyeahs dat, too!" 

“Now, Sis Mariah, doan yo' t'ink John 
Miller is plum crazy to let dat lit'l upstart 


44 


THE RESENTMENT 


of a boy go gaddin’ aroun’ to de Lord knows 
whar by hissef?" 

“Well, Aunt Mollie, I doan hardly know 
what to say 'bout Brother Miller." 

“Ah sez dat he is crazier dan a rnusrat." 
said Aunt Mollie. holding her hands and 
shaking her head. 

“Yo' know deni Millers alius had high- 
fluten notions. I wuz talkin' to Brother 
Miller mahse’f de udder day." 

“What did he say, Sis Mariah?" Aunt Mol- 
lie asked, rolling her chair closer so as to 
catch every word. 

“Well, he’s tickled to death. Yo' should 
of heard him talk of his son. Says I to him, 
<A in't yo' kind’r skeered to 'low dat boy go 
so far away from vo'?' He jes’ says, ‘I can 
trust mah boy to do de right thing!' " 

“Now, what do yo' t’ink ob dat fo' a civ- 
ilized father?” said Aunt Mollie, rolling her 
beady eyes in disgust. An' he said also dat 
it would be an edicatin' fo' him." 

“Ah doan know what dis world am cornin' 
to, Sis Mariah. Ah wish yo' could heb seen 
Si dis marnin, a buttin' an’ a scrapin' an' a 
bowin' wors'n any peacock dat yo’ eber seen. 
Now, when we wuz young, our parents told 
us what to do an' we did it; but to-day, yo' 
jest born de chillens into de world an’ wen 


THE RESENTMENT 


45 


dev is knee-high to a grasshopper, dey finish 
raisin' demself an stahts to bossin’ dev ma 
an' pa." 

“Yo' sho don sed it all now, Aunt Mollie," 
said Sis Maria, “but yo' can't 'spect any mo' 
from dem Miller chillens, 'cause Silas' moth- 
er wus a queer critter herse'f. She had all 
dese hveah noti'ns 'bout edicatin' an sich 
t'ings. Dey say she kep piles ob books, an' 
read an’ studied all de time. Now, a' tells 
vo' de truth. Ah ain’t got no faith in dis 
hveah sendin’ yo' chillens some whar way up 
No'th to get an edicatin', ’cause dar wuz Sis- 
ter Gibbs; she sint her boy to college in Noo 
Yak while she worked herse'f simple an' 
went ha'f naked an' haf starved. Says T 
to her one day, ‘When is yo' boy goin to get 
gradiated from college?' She says, ‘It's 
two mo' years he’s got, yet, den mah boy will 
be a doctah; ah sartinly will be a proud 
mother !' Well, de nex’ t'ing ah knows, her 
son done comes home. He had married 
some ole widder wif fo' yung’uns an' she ole 
'nuf to be his ma !" 

“Yo' don't say so, Aunt Mollie ! Po' t’ing. 
I guess she was terrible hurt." 

“Ah doan know how much hurt she war, 
but ah knows she drapped dead de nex' day. 
She aworkin' hersef to death to edicate her 


46 


THE RESENTMENT 


son to kech an ole widder an’ fo’ yung’ns 
wuz too much fo’ her. No, I doan believe in 
sendiiT dem away. Ah said to one ob de 
sisters to-day, ‘Dars Miller asendin’ his son 
away to some strange man dat he knows 
nothin’ bout: he is lak’lv to be one ob dese 
student doctahs dat dey say am po’ful plen- 
tiful in de cities dis time ob de year. Ah’d 
feel maghty sorry fo’ de boy ef one did kech 
him, but it would teach his pa some sense.” 

By this time the bell had rung for Sunday 
school. Aunt Mollie bade Sister Maria 
good-bye and left. 


CHAPTER IV. 




LEAVING HOME 

As anxious as Silas had been to go, when 
the time came he felt downhearted and al- 
most wished he had not planned to go. Then 
he made up his mind to let nothing stand in 
his way. Nett had gotten up early that 
morning and packed Silas’ few clothes in a 
little basket; she put in a few biscuits that 
her step-mother had baked the day before. 
Wishing to give him something for remem- 
brance, she put in her little gold locket that 
she had worn from babyhood, and a New 
Testament that had belonged to her mother. 

The day before Silas had sent Nett over 
to Mr. Baxter to get his reference from 
him. Curiosity overtook her when he 
handed her the envelope unsealed. After 
walking a little way, she stopped and open- 
ed it. She read: 

“To Whom It May Concern: Silas Mil- 
ler has worked for me nearly two years. 


THE RESENTMENT 


48 

I have always found him a good, honest 
boy, a willing worker, a little slow but his 
work always well done. He will grow to 
be a good trusty farm hand and servant.” 

“Humph,” said Nett, as she searched in 
her pocket for a pencil and a piece of paper, 
which she quickly found. Sitting down by 
the roadside, she wrote : “And maybe it may 
concern you to know, too, that Silas Miller 
don't intend to be a 'trusty servant' always, 
but a real business man. He has started 
already, so please don't think he is good for 
nothing but a servant. Please be kind to 
him for his sister's sake. — Nett.” 

She re-read this note with great pride and 
placed it in the envelope and sealed it. 

That morning, while packing his things, 
she placed the envelope in the Testament 
with her little gift. 

"The hour came, his father drove to the 
door in the family surrey. Silas kissed 
them all good-bye. Nett went to the sta- 
tion with them. On the way Nett told Si- 
las she was going to take good care of the 
pigs and would write him each week and 
tell him all the news. She talked and talk- 
ed, and at last she grew so silent that Silas 
asked her what she was thinking about. 

“I was thinking that when you get start- 


THE RESENTMENT 


49 


ed, would you help me to do something ?” 

“Certainly, Nett, what is it?” 

“Oh, I sha’n’t tell you now.” 

“All right, whatever it is I am sure it is 
right and I shall help you all I can.” 

At this answer, Nett hugged him and 
told him he was a dear brother. 

As the train steamed out of Chestertown, 
Silas waved good-bye to his father and 
Nett. It was his first trip on a train and 
he enjoyed it immensely. It seemed as if 
he would never reach Philadelphia. He 
made friends with an elderly gentleman 
that sat near him. When the conductor 
called Philadelphia, Silas began to feel a lit- 
tle nervous, but the stranger assured him 
that he would stay with him until he found 
the party he was looking for. 

“Are you sure the man will meet you and 
do you know him?” 

“Yes, sir, he said he would meet me and 
would be standing at the gate.” 

“Very well, then, we’ll wait until we reach 
the gate,” said the stranger. 

It was a wonderful sight to Silas to see 
the many trains in this large shed, and hun- 
dreds of persons hurrying to and fro on all 
sides. They walked slowly behind the 
great crowds that were leaving the trains. 



50 THE RESENTMENT 

Just as they reached the gate, a tall, 
swarthy-looking white man came forward. 
Lifting his hat, he asked: “Is this the young 
colored man that I am looking for? Silas 
Miller is the name, I believe. I am Mr. 
Dayton.” 

“Yes, sir, this is Silas Miller. 1 ” Turning 
to the stranger, Silas thanked him for his 
kindness. In return the man gave Silas 
his name and address, inviting him to call 
to see him when visiting Philadelphia. To 
Silas the Broad Street Station was the most 
wonderful place he had ever seen. 

Mr. Dayton left him in the waiting room 
while he went to attend to some business. 
That gave Silas a chance to see much of 
the station, with its beautiful waiting room, 
its lunch rooms, the calling of the different 
trains and the steady stream of human be- 
ings going and coming ceaselessly, was a 
great sight to this child who had only seen 
the little station and the three -coach trains 
of his home town. 

Mr. Dayton returned in a short time. 
“Well, Silas, we shall start for home. I 
suppose you are tired and hungry, but the 
madam will have dinner ready for us and 
I am sure we can do justice to it when we 
get there.” 


THE RESENTMENT 


51 


Mr. Dayton lived on a large farm in 
Bucks County, about twenty miles from the 
city, and as they drove along the country 
roads Silas had a chance to get a good look 
at his future employer. He saw at once 
that he was kindhearted and pleasant. As 
they turned into a lane leading to a small 
farmhouse, not far from the main road, Mr. 
Dayton said: “Here we are, this is our 
home. M At this he gave a long, loud whis- 
tle, and in answer to it, a pleasant looking 
woman came to the door. “Here's our boy, 
and that's my wife, Silas, Mrs. Dayton, a 
finer woman never lived." 

Mrs. Dayton shook hands with Silas and 
told him she would show him to his room 
and then they would have dinner. 

Was it possible that this was his room 
with its white bed and clean, white linen, 
a bureau, a little stand and two chairs, mat- 
ting on the floor and dainty white curtains 
at the windows? — everything was immac- 
ulate. Silas stood in the middle of the 
room. “I wonder if this is really my room?" 
he thought. To be sure he called Mrs. Day- 
ton and asked did she mean this was his 
room. 

“Yes, Silas, is it all right?" 

“Yes'm, it's fine, only I thought I had got- 


52 


THE RESENTMENT 


ten into the wrong room” 

‘'Hurry down, we shall have dinner at 
once, because I know you must be hungry.” 

Silas clasped his hands with joy; his first 
thought was, “I wish Nett could see this.” 
He loved his mischievous little sister; she 
had been his chum and partner in every- 
thing since they were children 

That night Mr. Dayton read Silas’ refer- 
ences from Mr. Baxter. When he read the 
other note, he was amused, but said nothing 
to Silas about it. 

Mr. and Mrs. Dayton became very fond 
of Silas. They found what Mr. Baxter 
said was very true. He was an industrious 
boy and a slave to duty. 

He ate with them and in the evening sat 
with them in the drawing room and read 
their papers and books. Mrs. Dayton did 
everything to make him feel at home. All 
of this, which he was so unused to in the 
South did not turn Silas. He showed his 
appreciation of their kindness, but was very 
quiet and seldom spoke unless he was spok- 
en to. 

When company came, he went to his 
room (which was a haven to him) without 
being told or hinted at. In everything he 
showed good home training or self-culture. 


THE RESENTMENT 


53 


For this the Daytons admired him. He 
worked well, learning the business quickly 
and doing his work so well that after six 
months Mr. Dayton made him foreman. 

One day after working hard in helping 
Mr. Dayton with his hogs, preparing them 
for sale, Mr. Dayton said to a friend: “I 
have never seen such a boy. I would never 
have gotten through to-day had he not tak- 
en such interest and given good suggestions 
here and there which helped me so much.” 

That night Mr. Dayton recalled the con- 
tents of the little note written on the slip 
of paper enclosed with Silas’ reference. He 
asked his wife if she had kept it as he want- 
ed it. Mrs. Dayton got it for him; he read 
it again and again. Turning to his wife, 
he said, “Whoever Nett is, she is right. Si- 
las will never be contented to work as a 
mere laborer for others. His wits are as 
sharp as steel.” 

“Yes, I noticed the first day he was here 
that he was brilliant and intelligent.” 

When Silas came in from work that even- 
ing, Mr. Dayton asked him about his family 
at home, if he had any brothers or sisters. 

“Yes, sir, T have two brothers and one 
sister.” 

“What is your sister’s name?” 


54 


THE RESENTMENT 


“Nett,” Silas replied. 

That night when Silas was fast asleep 
Mr. Dayton wrote a letter to Nett. “ Dear 
little Nett/'* it read, “I got the note you sent 
me. I am glad to say that all that you said 
is true. Silas is a good boy and takes great 
interest in his work. We are very fond of 
him, yes, a boy so tactful as he will never 
be contented to labor for others. I admire 
his ability to strive to become a man of 
worth. We shall hate to lose such a boy, 
but he is not ours to keep long. I will add, 
we shall be kind to him for his own sake, 
and yours. Very truly yours, Mr. Dayton.” 

When little Nett got that letter, there 
wasn't a happier girl alive. After reading 
it she took down an old picture that hung 
in her bedroom, and placed the letter in the 
back of it. There it hung for many years 
with its secret. 


CHAPTER V. 


SEEING CITY LIFE 


Silas was very happy but lonely. He met 
two boys who worked on adjoining farms. 
They both had been reared in the city, but 
their parents had come from the South 
years ago. When work was dull in the city 
they would come and work on the farm for 
a little while. They met Silas and became 
friendly at once. He was glad to have a 
little company, for at times he grew very 
homesick. Horace Turner’s and Bob Dale’s 
parents had worked hard to give them a 
good education, but after finishing grammar 
school, they refused to go further or to take 
up any good trade. Like a ship without a 
rudder, tossed and driven without a sure 
destination, so were Horace and Bob. They 
had chosen the road of sports, doing easy v 
work and when they could not obtain this 
kind, they did a little hard work to keep 
pocket change. When they met Silas, they 
called him a “Green-horn,” from down in 
the sticks. “We’ll take him around and 
teach him to spend his change,” said Bob. 


56 


THE RESENTMENT 


“I don’t know about that; he doesn’t look 
so soft/’ slowly replied Horace. 

After being acquainted for some time, 
they asked Silas to go into the city. Silas 
was anxious to go but consulted Mr. Day- 
ton first. “Silas. I hardly know what to 
say. You never know who strangers are, 
but if you think you are strong enough by 
all means go.” Silas did not understand 
just what he meant by “being strong 
enough,” yet he did not ask and Mr. Dayton 
did not say. 

A few weeks later, Silas went to stay 
over Sunday with the boys. He was intro- 
duced to their parents and their sisters. 
Both families lived together in one large 
house. Bob’s sister played the piano and 
Horace’s sister sang like a nightingale. 

Silas had heard good voices, but not train- 
ed ones. He sat almost afraid to move out 
of the corner. Both girls saw how timid 
he was and took great delight to show their 
ability or rather “show off.” 

Later in the evening, the boys took him 
out to meet some of their friends and see 
their city. From the first Silas felt far be- 
neath them. They were well dressed and 
seemed to know so much. As he looked 
down at his clothes, cheap and shabby, but 


THE RESENTMENT 


57 


clean, he felt out of place. He thought of 
what Nett would say, “Snap in, old boy.” 
With this thought he soon forgot himself. 

Several of the boys laughed when they 
introduced Silas. “Just from down the 
sticks, ain’t he?” whispered some of the 
boys. Silas heard this remark and answer- 
ed, “yes, just from down the sticks, and met 
these two fine, young gentlemen working on 
farms near me, doing the same kind of work 
that I am, as for the same purpose I do not 
know. One thing I do know, if they have 
the same viewpoint as I, we shall be life- 
time friends.” 

Bob and Horace would like to have chok- 
ed Silas. They would not for worlds have 
had their friends know that they were work- 
ing on the farm. Bob was very angry, but 
Horace was much amused and said nothing. 

“Boys, this will never do, standing here, 
where shall we go for sport?” “Let’s go 
down and stand on the corner of ‘A’ street 
and watch the girls,” said one. “Let’s go 
over to the pool room and pull a little change 
first,” said another. “What will our friend, 
Mr. Miller, suggest?” asked another. “I 
don’t know,” said Silas, shaking his head,” 
“this is my first visit to the city and I know 
nothing of the places of amusement here.” 


58 


THE RESENTMENT 


“You just follow us, and we will initiate 
you to real city life.” On the way to the 
pool room they passed a crowd of boys 
shooting crap on the corner. Crap games, 
cards and drinking Silas was prepared 
against: he had seen these things in the 
country and his humble Christian mother 
and father had taught him the wrongs of 
such things. Silas Miller did not know how 
many other sins — deep, dark, black, blacker 
sins — existed in this world. On entering 
the pool room, they played a while and then 
asked Silas to join them. 

“Is it gambling?” he asked. 

“No, you blockhead, it is good sport and 
easy money.” 

“You all go ahead and play, I will look 
on this time until I get more acquainted 
with the game.” 

Seeing that they could not get him to 
spend his money here, they decided to take 
in a movie show, asking Silas to treat them 
by paying their fares, which he willingly 
did. 

“We will make him spend his change yet 
if we keep at it long enough,” they whis- 
pered. 

Silas enjoyed the show very much. It 
was the first one of its kind he had ever 


THE RESENTMENT 


59 


seen. After leaving the theatre, Silas said, 
“Suppose we go home; you know Tm not 
used to staying up so late. I guess youTl 
think me rather 'sissy/ but I must get ac- 
customed to the city before becoming one 
of you.” 

They had already begun to see that Silas 
had a depth of mind that one could not 
readily fathom. However well prepared, 
you could not guess just what he would say 
or do next. The slightest whisper reached 
his keen ears; he seemed to read one’s 
thoughts and answered accordingly. Being 
a close observer he could detect the slight- 
est wink or hint. This made the boys very 
careful. As bad and mischievous as they 
were, they did not care to have Silas catch 
them at their tricks. They had intended 
to stay out later and take in a cabaret, but 
when Silas suggested going home, they 
thought it best not to say anything if they 
ever expected him to go out with them 
again. 

Sunday being a rest day, city folks, tired 
and weary from the week’s toil, take ad- 
vantage of this day to sleep a little late, 
getting up just in time to rush off to church 
services that begin about 11 o’clock, but 
Silas being used to rising with the sun, could 


60 


THE RESENTMENT 


not sleep later than six o’clock; so he de- 
cided to dress and take a walk. It was a 
beautiful April morning and Easter Sunday. 
The sun was shining brightly and warm; 
the trees were putting forth their beautiful 
green leaves, along the street here and there 
little patches of green grass, showing that 
Nature was spreading her green mantle. 
The birds sang and chirped as if they were 
glad that the long winter was passed and 
spring had come, and they seemed to be 
pouring forth their thanks to God. Silas 
walked and walked. He saw great throngs 
of people going to and from large churches, 
while bells rang and chimes pealed out 
some of the hymns that he had heard 
so often. His heart was full and his eyes 
filled with tears, when he thought of the 
folks at home and of the little chapel where 
he had learned to recite his first Easter re- 
citation. 

On his return he told them of his walk. 
“ I am a great lover of Nature, and seem to 
get wonderful inspiration in the early morn- 
ing.” 

As they sat down to breakfast that morn- 
ing, both families saw that Silas was far 
more cultured than their children, whom 
they idolized. His manner in eating and 


THE RESENTMENT 


61 


speaking commanded great admiration and 
respect from them. Even Eva Dale who 
had in her mind to show off to the country 
lad, soon found herself of little importance. 
Silas Miller held the winning cards and he 
played them. 

After breakfast they all prepared for 
church. It being Easter Sunday they were 
all dressed in their new spring suits. They 
asked Silas to go but hoped he would not 
accept their invitation as they did not care 
to take him, so poorly dressed, to their fine 
church among their fashionable set. 

Instinct seemed to have forewarned him 
and he answered that he would rather stay 
and sit on the front steps and watch the 
people as they passed; then he added: “I 
have nothing nice to wear.” They were 
very pleased and of course did not urge him 
to go. Mrs. Turner gave him a book and 
told him to read it if he became lonely. “We 
shall not be gone more than two hours,” 
she said. 

He had just started to read when Mar- 
garet Kempt, a young girl living two doors 
away, came out all dressed for church. She 
recognized him as being the boy who was 
visiting the Turner’s home. She was so 
surprised to see him sitting there alone, she 


62 


THE RESENTMENT 


exclaimed, “Oh, aren't you going to church 
with the folks?" 

“No, I'm going to sit and read until they 
come home." 

“But goodness, this is Easter : and you 
should go today, by all means." 

Seeing that Margaret was a friendly little 
girl, he said, “I did not have anything to 
wear, so I decided not to go. I hear that 
your churches are so fine and the people 
so fashionably dressed here." 

“Oh, don't stay away for that cause ; come 
and go with me. Mother is not feeling so 
well and father is going to stay with her, 
so I am going alone. Besides, we belong to 
the Episcopal Church and we go there to 
worship and not for fashion." 

Silas felt the warmth of this friendly in- 
vitation and decided to go. 

As they entered the church it was a beau- 
tiful sight. The great pipe organ with its 
thundering music ; the choir dressed in their 
peculiar-looking gowns — how they sang, 
“Christ is risen!" 

The minister in his long robe read from 
St. John 3:16: “God so loved the world that 
He gave his only begotten Son that who- 
soever believeth on Him should not perish, 
but have everlasting life." The service was 


THE RESENTMENT 


63 


quiet and simple, but very impressive; it 
seemed to touch the hearts of the entire 
congregation. Silas said he would always 
remember that wonderful sermon. 

Returning from church, they met Horace 
and Bob; each walking with a beautiful 
girl. The boys were nearlv shocked out of 
their wits with surprise when they saw 
Silas with Margaret Kempt. 

Margaret Kempt was the only child of 
Mr. and Mrs. Kempt. Her father was the 
most prominent and prosperous colored 
lawyer of the city. They had reared their 
child not to be selfish or conceited. She was 
much loved by all who knew her, and at the 
early age of fifteen could be trusted to make 
good friends. Her parents would always 
say, “whenever you make acquaintances, 
Margaret, invite them to your home; we 
are older and experienced, and can help you 
to judge in selecting friends.” In this way 
little Margaret and her parents grew to be 
great chums instead of becoming estranged 
as most children are with their parents at 
this age. 

Silas told Margaret of his determination; 
why he had left the country and how he 
had intended to return as soon as he had 
made money enough to start in business on 


64 


THE RESENTMENT 


a larger scale. Margaret, in return, told 
him she was taking a business course with 
the view of becoming her father’s secre- 
tary. “My father is doing good business, 
now, and I shall be glad when I am pro- 
ficient enough to be in the office with him.” 

When they reached the house Margaret 
asked Silas to call that evening to meet 
her parents, as they were glad to meet 
young men who are trying to make good 
in the world.” 

When he went into the house the boys 
laughed and asked him if he was not reach- 
ing high up to be walking and talking so 
friendly with Miss Kempt. 

“You know she’s the daughter of one of 
wealthiest lawyers of the city.” 

“Yes, she told me her father was a law- 
yer; she also invited me in this evening to 
meet her parents before leaving for the 
farm.” 

“Is that so?” said Mrs. Turner, who had 
made many unsuccessful attempts to get 
her children on better social terms with 
Margaret Kempt. 

“Aren’t you afraid you’ll get kicked out 
of the house?” said Eva Turner, with a 
sneer. 

“No, Miss Turner, not unless I give him 


THE RESENTMENT 


65 


good cause for such an offense.” 

Finding it useless to argue with Silas, she 
■stopped at his last remark. 

During the afternoon company came. 
Silas enjoyed the playing and singing, but 
sat quietly; he was not one to push himself 
upon others unasked. About five o’clock 
Margaret rang the bell and asked if Silas 
Miller could come in for a few minutes. “I 
want father and mother to meet him.” Ex- 
cusing himself, Silas went with Margaret 
and was introduced to her parents. 

When Silas left the room Mrs. Turner 
said she did not know what Attorney Kempt 
was thinking of to let his daughter pick up 
any boy or girl that she chanced to find on 
the street and ask them into their home as 
friends : "Now she sees this boy and had the 
nerve to drag him off to church with her, 
and ask him in to spend the evening.” 

"And he hadn’t any more sense than to 
go, looking like an Arab,” said Eva. 

"If you had said he had sense enough to 
go, I think you’d made better time,” said 
Eva’s father. 

"Papa, who asked your opinion on the 

subject ?” 

"No one. I usually give my opinion free 
of asking,” he said, laughing good natured- 


66 


THE RESENTMENT 


ly. “I suppose the old lawyer knows what 
he is doing. If you and Horace possessed 
a little of the culture that young Miller has., 
I am sure you would be better liked/' 

“Oh, Will, you are always contrasting 
your children with someone else, and I hate 
that; they are as good as he. I suppose 
Margaret pitied him sitting there so for- 
lorn and shabby-looking. He should have 
had gumption enough to have stayed on the 
farm until he got better clothes to come 
visiting decent people," said Mrs. Turner, 
suppressing something akin to rage. 

“That's the trouble with you all now; you 
think that clothes is the whole thing; but 
let me tell you, it goes far from making the 
man or woman. Most of our people carry 
more on their backs than in their heads. Of 
course, I must admit that clothes help, but 
it is far from being the whole thing." 

“Papa always has to give a long sermon 
on every little thing that is said." 

“Yes, daughter, I hope some day you will 
understand what papa means." 

“If you mean that I must pick up all kinds 
of persons for friends, I shall never under- 
stand you, papa." 

“I suppose that’s the way old Kempt made 
his money; by associating with such ignor- 


THE RESENTMENT 


6 7 


ant people so that they would come to him 
with all their trouble,” said Mrs. Turner. 

“Mother, you should not say such things, 
Attorney Kempt is considered the shrewd- 
est lawyer that we have, and it is said that 
he touches nothing that is chicane, and they 
all take their hats off to him. He is sociable 
because he was once a poor boy himself and 
worked his way up to his present standing,, 
and Henry Kempt is not one to forget so 
soon,” corrected Mr. Turner. 

Mrs. Turner, finding no other subterfuge, 
said, “I hope they’ll have a pleasant even- 
ing.” 

Never before had Silas met such learned 
people of his own race. They made him 
feel, not as a stranger but as a friend in 
their magnificent home. Margaret had told 
them of Silas’ mission in the North. They 
both encouraged him very much and offer- 
ed to assist him in any matter where their 
advise would be of service. 

When Silas left, he thanked Mr. and Mrs. 
Turner for their hospitality, and also the 
boys for inviting him in to see the city. The 
most memorable object of that visit was 
Margaret Kempt. Who could not admire 
her sweet congenial manner and air, r so dif- 
ferent from the other girls whose sole ob- 


68 


THE RESENTMENT 


ject was to attract attention? 

Monday night, Silas wrote a long letter 
to Nett, telling her of his visit to the city 
and everything that he thought would in- 
terest her. But Nett noticed that Margaret 
Kempt seemed to be the chief object of in- 
terest. 

The boys kept friends with Silas and were 
more friendly than ever when they found 
that he was making good with the daughter 
of one of their neighbors. Finding that they 
could not persuade him to spend much mon- 
ey, they tried to coax him to join their set. 
They invited him to the city often; Silas 
going when it was his time off. 

One who goes through life without fall- 
ing, is weaker than he who falls ; but is made 
stronger by the fall. 

Silas had worked four months. He had 
spent but little money, but decided to buy 
a new suit of clothes when he came in town 
that evening. The boys, knowing that he 
had money with him, tempted him to play 
pool. They told him it was an easy way to 
make money to start in business sooner and 
that it was not gambling or the city would 
not permit it in public places. 

This seemed possible to Silas. He had 


THE RESENTMENT 


69 


brought ten dollars with him, so decided to 
play once. He could not understand, but 
soon found that he had lost five dollars, and 
when they let him stop, he had only three 
dollars left. It was a bitter lesson to this 
boy, but a good one. 

When Margaret asked him was he going 
to church the next morning, he shook his 
head sadly and said, “No, Margaret, but I 
do want to speak to your father; I have 
something to ask him." 

Margaret was delighted to call him. At- 
torney Kempt came into the drawing room 
to find Silas so haggard and forlorn-looking. 

“Why, Silas, old fellow, what's the mat- 
ter? You look ready to drop." he said, 
laughing as he reached Silas his hand. 

Silas stood up and tried to smile, but he 
could not. So he simply said, “Mr. Kempt, 
I came to ask you, is playing pool gambl- 
ing ? ” 

“Yes, Silas, it is, in a way; although 
many claim that it is not." 

“The boys asked me to play with them, 
last night; they said it was not gambling, 
but I lost seven dollars." 

Mr. Kempt stood thinking for a moment, 
then he said slowly, “Silas, I am glad you 
lost, but sorry it was so much. No one 


70 


THE RESENTMENT 


could ever have convinced you that it is, 
wrong as much as you are convinced now. 
Seven dollars could have done much to help 
you. but it has helped you to become strong 
against the many temptations of the city.” 

Silas hung his head. Walking over to 
him, Mr. Kempt placed his hand on his 
shoulder and said, “Do not be ashamed, 
Silas, you came to me for advice — one to 
whom you could tell the truth. I was once 
a boy, too, and I can sympathize with you. 

“Dear boy, playing pool or any other such 
games are dangerous to the average youth,, 
and particularly to the boy who must de- 
pend upon himself and hard work to obtain 
money for higher purposes. Because, after 
becoming an expert, and if circumstances 
ever cross his path, he will — if not master- 
ful-minded (and nine cases out of ten he is 
not — be tempted to use this means to ob- 
tain money; and, being experienced, he will 
easily victimize the inexperienced player^ 
Thus, both he and others will slowly but 
surely be drawn down to a gambler’s hell. 

“I want to impress upon you now, that 
there is no easy way to make money. No 
easy way to true success. This comes only 
to the man who is willing to work and work 


THE RESENTMENT 


71 


hard. Let your dollars be honestly earned, 
and when your work is done, you can retire 
with a clear conscience to yourself and your 
fellowman. 

“Miller, I have been at the bar for nearly 
twenty years. I have, through hard work, 
won honor and fame. There is not a living 
soul that can say through me he did not 
get justice. No man has dared to come to 
me guilty and expect me to plead or lie for 
him. I cannot be bought; but I will fight 
through a burning hell to right a wrong. 
For this, many hate me, and the same ones 
respect me. I could be far more richer to- 
day than I am. but I am rich in conscious- 
ness. I have few friends, but they are loyal 
and true ones. 

“I could talk for hours, but it will take 
just such happening to convince you. How- 
ever much I might say, will only serve as a 
map by which you may journey. You must 
do your own traveling. Wisdom comes with 
experience and age. 

“I am glad you came to me. I admire the 
man in you.” 

“And so do I.” 

Attorney Kempt looked to see his little 
sunbeam standing in the doorway. 


72 


THE RESENTMENT 


Silas felt proud that he had come to this 
man for advice. He also told Mr. and Mrs. 
Dayton that afternoon, when he went to 
the farm. 

“That is what I meant when I said go to 
the city by all means, if you are strong 
enough,” explained Mr. Dayton. 

Later that afternoon. Bob Dale said to 
Margaret. “I see your pious Mr. Miller is a 
crackerjack pool player; lost quite a sum of 
money last night; should have known better 
than to have played with those city fellows.”' 

“Yes, he came to father this morning and 
told him of his experience and asked him his 
advice. You are just the meanest boys 
alive. You know he had never seen a pool 
game in his life before.” said Margaret, her 
face almost purple with rage. 

“Oh,” said Bob, sheepishly, “did he tell 
your father?” 

He had intended to put Margaret against 
Silas, but was very much fooled and felt 
rather afraid that Silas had exposed them 
by telling Mr. Kempt. Margaret stood 
waiting to see what else he was going to 
say, but he turned and walked slowly away. 

Silas had paid dearly for his wits, but it 
had taught him to wax strong against temp- 
tation by so-called friends. He did not: 


THE RESENTMENT 


73 


wholly shun the boys, but was careful where 
he went and what he did. 

He had just begun to realize the full 
meaning of his father’s words, when he said, 
“I am afraid the city life will make you for- 
get us and the thoughts of becoming a busi- 
ness man.” 

He thought of how weak he had been, 
how easily he had fallen when he had 
thought himself so strong. “I wondered at 
my father’s fear, but now I know,” he said 
to himself. 


CHAPTER VI. 

NET DETERMINES HER COURSE 

“I want every boy and girl to do his and 
her best today/' said Mr. Price, the teacher. 
“I am expecting the Examiner about two 
or three o'clock today. I want you to be 
attentive, pay strict attention to what he 
says and try to answer as best you can. 
Please do not get nervous and answer any- 
thing. If you do not know, keep quiet and 
say nothing." 

This day was always an exciting day to 
the rural district school children. The Ex- 
aminer was a dreaded visitor to them. He 
usually frightened them all so badly that 
half of them could not tell whether the sun 
rose in the east or west, or how old they 
were or what grade they were in. It was 
very trying for the teacher, who wished to 
have his scholars at their best. 

It was nearly three o’clock. They had 
given up hopes that he would come that day, 
when there came a loud knock upon the 
door. Mr. Keller entered. He was a large. 


THE RESENTMENT 


75 


red faced, red headed white man, with a 
heavy voice. “Good afternoon, scholars/’ 
he said, bowing to the boys on the right 
and the girls on the left. “Good afternoon, 
sir,” came the weak response. 

After hearing several classes recite, he 
called the sixth grade, which consisted of 
five scholars, Nett Miller being at the head 
of the class. Each child seemed well pre- 
pared as they answered question after ques- 
tion. Mr. Keller was pleased and praised 
both the teacher and pupils. “The little girl 
at the head of the class is an unusually 
bright colored child.” 

“How old are you?” was asked. 

“Fifteen years old, sir.” 

After asking several other questions, he 
started at the foot of the class and asked 
each child what he or she intended to do. 

Some said they didn’t know. Others just 
shook their heads, and still others laughed. 
He seemed almost despaired at not getting 
an}^ intelligent answers and was about to 
dismiss the class, when he asked, “Well, 
what does my little girl at the head of the 
class intend to be?” 

Nett said in a loud, distinct voice, “An 
old maid and a trained nurse, sir.” 

There was a loud roar of laughter, both 


76 


THE RESENTMENT 


the teacher and the Examiner smiled, but 
Nett did not see anything funny about it. 

Mr. Keller said, “Child, you have certain- 
ly chosen a noble field in which to work; 
you have the right idea — she who would 
seek her mission here, must make many 
sacrifices and could not do full justice ta 
her work if a married woman. I am glad 
to know that at your age, you have some 
idea of what you should like to do,” 

Mr. Keller dismissed the class, talked 
awhile to the teacher, then left. There was 
a general snickering throughout the school- 
room. Nett Miller, one of the proudest 
girls in this county, wants to be an old* 
maid,” whispered the children among them- 
selves. Mr. Price soon stopped the teasing 
and praised her for her good manner in 
speaking out so intelligently, and not gig- 
gling and laughing as did many of the pupils. 

Nett wrote to Silas and told him how she 
had passed in her studies: she also added 
that she had been looking for a wife for 
him, but could not find a girl that seemed 
just right. She told him of all the little 
incidents that happened at school, but with- 
held her secret of wanting to go to the city 
to study to become a trained nurse. 

School closed the tenth of May, Nett had 


THE RESENTMENT 


77 


taken good care of the pigs, she worked 
late, and rose early in the morning. Her 
father, seeing how faithfully she worked, 
gave them entirely to her care. 

About a week after school had closed, a 
farmer stopped one day to see if any of the 
Miller children were old enough to pick 
strawberries. Mrs. Miller thought that they 
were too busy at home to let them go, but 
Nett and little John begged so hard that at 
last she consented to let them go. “We have 
quite a number of school children, and that 
will make it pleasant for them,’ , said the 
farmer. “I shall expect you all about seven 
o'clock in the morning. In the afternoon 
we pick from two until five." 

Nett got her work done and retired early. 
She and little John could hardly wait until 
morning came. All the others had started 
picking when she and her brother arrived. 
“For goodness sake, look who's here!" they 
all exclaimed as they entered the patch. The 
foreman gave each a box and told them 
where to start. 

“You must pick your vines clean, but be 
careful that the berries are not too ripe; 
you must not crush or mash them. Go 
slowly until you have learned to pick well. 
I am sure you will get along all right. What 


78 


THE RESENTMENT 


you do not know, do not be afraid to ask 
me.” 

It was a day Nett never forgot ; the dew 
was so heavy in the morning that she swore 
that she was nearly drowned; in the after- 
noon the sun became so hot that she nearly 
roasted. But, in spite of these obstacles, 
she stuck to her post. It was indeed amus- 
ing to see Nett Miller appear upon the scene 
the next day with old gloves and a veil that 
she had begged her step-mother to give her. 

“Poor little saint; girls, I r'eally think 
that Nett Miller is the proudest and vainest 
girl alive/' said Mary Stewart. 

“I must admit that she is proud, but not 
at all vain. She possesses the kind of pride 
that doesn't hurt," said Mattie King, a girl 
older than the others. 

In spite of the pride and all that was said 
about her, Nett proved to be one of the best 
workers. 

She worked hard; it was the first money 
she had ever earned. Each night she would 
count her checks to see how fast her dollars 
were growing. 

“We only get a cent a quart, and if I want 
to make ten dollars, I shall have to learn to 
pick faster than I do," she said to her 
mother. 


THE RESENTMENT 


79 


She planned to buy a new white dress, a 
hat and new shoes, and then give the bal- 
ance to help buy new things for her little 
brothers. 

It was on the last day of the picking. Nett 
returned home in high spirits with nine dol- 
lars and eighty-seven cents. Giving the 
money to her mother, she rushed off to feed 
the pigs, only to find one dead. Poor child, 
she was dumbfounded; she had worked so 
hard to keep them fat and healthy. And 
they were growing so nicely. Now, one had 
to go and die. She cried until her little 
heart nearly burst. Her father and mother 
tried to console her; they told her that in 
every business, one loses as well as gain. 

“You have nine left out of ten, and it 
could have nine dead and only one alive; 
you have much to be thankful for, Nett/* 
said her father. 

After this talk Nett was relieved, yet she 
was not contented. 

Two da}os later, Nett counted out five dol- 
lars of her money; tying it in an old stock- 
ing, she went as fast as her feet would carry 
her to Mr. Baxter’s. 

“Well, well. Nett Miller, what brings you 
here so early this morning ?” 

“I came to buy a pig, sir.” 


so 


THE RESENTMENT 


“Holy smokes! are you going to raise 
pigs, too?” 

“No, sir, Si left his in my care when he 
went away, and one of them had to die,” 
said Nett, almost in tears. 

“Well, don’t look so hurt about it; we 
shall see what we can do.” 

Mr. Baxter left Nett standing in the barn 
yard while he went to look over his hogs. 
He returned a few minutes later driving a 
small young shoat before him. 

“How about this one, Net t?” 

“O, it is grand; it’s a little larger than 
the one that died. How much is it, Mr. Bax- 
ter?” 

“Why, I’ll let you have it for two dollars.” 

Her heart leaped with joy; “I will still 
have money enough to buy my white dress 
and hat for Children’s Day,” she said, clap- 
ping her hands in .. childish glee . 

She paid Mr. Baxter, and proudly drove 
“Jim” (as she named her new protege), 
home. 

When her father returned from work that 
evening, Nett called him to see the pig she 
had bought. Mr. Miller was surprised. 

“Where did you get it, Nett?” 

“I bought it today, from Mr. Baxter.” 

“But, where did you get the money to 


THE RESENTMENT 


81 


pay for it?” asked her father, more puz- 
zled than he cared to show. 

Seeing this, Nett said, “Why, papa, don’t 
look scared to death ; I cross my heart, I did 
not go out and rob any bank ; I picked straw- 
berries for three long weeks and made near- 
ly ten dollars, so I took some of the money 
and bought the pig. I just couldn’t rest, 
papa; I had to replace the one that died: I 
was afraid Si would think I had neglected 
them.” 

Mr. Miller laid his hand upon his daugh- 
ter’s head and said, “Nett, you are a darling. 
I am glad that you are so kind hearted ; God 
will bless you for your good deeds, some 
day.” 

Had her father been able to witness the 
battle that occurred within Nett for two 
days; how she had struggled against the 
forces of selfishness and unselfishness, un- 
til she could not sleep ; how these two spirits 
fought a mighty battle, one against the 
other, but unselfishness won. Nett gave up 
the white dress and the shoes to buy the 
pig. Had her father been able to witness 
that scene, he would have said, “Well done, 
my little girl.” 

This was the beginning; Providence had 
chosen this child for a purpose. The noble 


82 


THE RESENTMENT 


characters which He had instilled within 
her had lain concealed in her bosom to grow 
to maturity. And now, the first to steal 
forth from its hiding place was the virtue 
of unselfishness. Like unto the rose-bud 
that can no longer retain the flower, but 
bursting forth, and, unfurling its petals, 
drinks in the dew, the air, and the sunshine; 
and in return, gives forth its sweet frag- 
rance. So would Nett Miller give to the 
world noble deeds that would seem almost 
supernatural. This was the first time she 
had been brought to test, and she had not 
been found wanting. She was so overjoyed 
at having enough money left to buy the hat 
and dress that she had forgotten the shoes. 

It was the Friday before Children’s Day 
She was showing her father her new hat 
and the dress her mother had made for her, 
when he asked, “Where are your shoes, 
dear? I thought you were going to buy new 
ones !” 

“I did not get them, papa; I only made a 
little more than nine dollars. I gave mother 
three dollars to help get the other children 
ready, and after I got my hat and dress and 
paid for the pig, I did not have enough to 
buy new shoes. But mother bought a bot- 
tle of shoe polish, and I am going to polish 


THE RESENTMENT 


83 


the old ones and put new strings in them. 
They will look all right.” 

Her father said nothing, but told her 
mother that night, if it took the last cent 
he possessed, Nett should have a new pair 
of shoes. 

Sunday came, all the children were excit- 
ed and in a hurry to get dressed. Nett had 
helped her mother all the morning with the 
younger ones, and went to get dressed her- 
self: she had put on her stockings and reach- 
ed for her shoes which she had placed be- 
side the bed after she had polished them, 
early that morning. She opened wide her 
large, brown eyes when she found a pair 
of new black slippers in the place of the 
old polished shoes. “Am I awake? I cer- 
tainly must be dreaming; no, it is true, brand 
new slippers.” 

Her father had come quietly up the stairs 
to take a look at her; it was a beautiful sight 
to him to see his child bending over, admir- 
ing the slipper on one foot, while she held 
the other in her hand. “Ain't they pretty?” 
she was saying to herself. 

“Do you like them, dear?” asked her fa- 
ther, walking into the room. 

“O, papa, you nearly frightened.._me to 


■death ” 



84 


THE RESENTMENT 


Rushing to him and putting her arms 
around his neck, she nearly smothered him 
with kisses. 

“Papa, how did you know I wanted slip- 
pers ?” she asked. “You don’t know how 
happy you have made me.” 

Her father smiled and said, “If you make 
others happy, Nett, you too shall be happy.” 

Too young to know the full meaning of 
his words, she said, “I have never made any- 
body as happy as you have made me today, 
but I shall try, after this.” 

Years afterward, she put these words into 
effect. 


CHAPTER VII. 


STEP BY STEP 

Two years have passed since Silas left. 
He had made one visit home. Nett and 
her father had sold some of the hogs and 
bought others. She had acquired a good 
business acumen. 

While Silas worked in the North, she ^ 
worked on the farm at home for him. He 
had shipped home several fine breeds of hogs 
that he had bought from Mr. Dayton. 

Nett placed them in different lots, and, 
under no circumstances could she be per- 
suaded to sell even one of them. 

Silas had saved the amount of money he 
thought sufficient to start business on a 
larger scale with and was preparing to leave 
the North. 

While foreman of Mr. Dayton's farm, he 
was loved by all the men employed there. 
No one ever thought of consulting Mr. Day- 
ton concerning anything 'when Silas was 
near. It was always, "Where is Miller ?” 
or "Ask Miller.” In giving orders he always 


86 


THE RESENTMENT 


used good manners; he never forgot to say 
“please” or “thank you.” He showed no 
egotism, nor ever made the slightest ref- 
erence to the position he held over them. 

He had taken advantage of the evening 
business school at Bristol, a little town near- 
by, and was well prepared to begin his life's 
work. 

In these two years he had seen enough 
of the life in the city to be well prepared 
against the sin and vice that existed any- 
where. 

Mr. Dayton gave him a letter of recom- 
mendation that would help him to obtain 
any position in the world. Handing it to 
him, he said.. “Silas, I can't say enough for 
you. With your interest and willingness 
to serve, with the pride you manifest in your 
work, and with your determination, suc- 
cess is yours. Come to see us when you 
can, and write us often.” 

He went to say “Good-bye” to the few — 
we cannot say friends — acquaintances that 
he had made. Even Horace and Bob re- 
gretted his leaving, while they did not as- 
sociate with him extensively, they had learn- 
ed to esteem him for the interest he main- 
tained in himself and the respect he had for 
others. 


THE RESENTMENT 


87 


He said “good-bve” to Mrs. Kempt and 
Margaret ; he went over to Attorney Kempt 
and said, “Mr. Kempt, I have come to say 
good-bye, and thank you for the advice you 
gave me; it has helped me so much.” 

Attorney Kempt stood with his hands on 
Silas’ shoulders; looking down into Silas’ 
face, he said, “This is the little man; I shall 
be waiting to hear of the big man. It may 
take years, Silas, but don’t disappoint me; 
I shall be surprised should I hear that you 
had given up because a little effort confront- 
ed you.” 

“I shall do my best, Mr. Kempt.” “That 
is all one can do.” 

“We shall be glad to see you at any time; 
1 hope vou will always think of us as real 
friends,” said Mr. Kempt. 

As he left the room, Margaret said, “Don’t 
forget to write.” 

Two days later Silas Miller left the North 
to take up his work again in the South. He 
had been encouraged so much that he felt 
sure he would make good. 

At home once more, he went to work in 
earnest. We see him today on his father’s 
place, a proud young man of nineteen years. 
One could hardly deem it possible that it was 
the same Silas Miller who left here just a 


83 


THE RESENTMENT 


little more than two years ago. 

Even Aunt Mollie Noble said, “I do de~ 
clar’ he looks a heap bettah den befo’ ! an’ I 
t’ink de North has tuk out some of them 
airs, too.” 

While the other boys bought horses and 
carriages to drive around and enjoy the 
evening* hours, Silas put every dollar that 
he made into his business. 

All the farmers around had begun to 
notice that Silas Miller had the best hogs- 
in the country. It was indeed wonderful to 
notice how rapidly he progressed. In call- 
ing upon Silas, the farmers would shake 
their heads and say after learning his prices, 
“Miller, you are selling too high.” Then 
there would follow a long talk; Silas had 
learned to talk well. He often rehearsed 
the business talk that he had heard Mr. 
Dayton and his customers engage in. The 
farmers would listen attentively, then say, 
“Well, Miller, I s’pose you’re right, after 
all.” They usually ended by paying him 
his price. 

Nett was always by his side; she loved 
the work, but she always seemed to be think- 
ing of something afar off. 

One day Silas told her that he had rented 
a larger farm for the next year. “Our busi- 


THE RESENTMENT 


89 


ness is getting so large we cannot stay here 
any longer. I shall also hire two more men.” 

“That is grand, Si. I know that you are 
happy.” 

“Yes,” Nett. “I am; aren’t you?” 

“Well, v’e, yes, Si,” she said, slowly. Silas 
noticed the unusual hesitation, as his sister, 
whom he \o\ed so well, and asked, “What 
is it, Nett? You have worked so hard and 
faithfully for me; without your help, I could 
not have gotten on. You stayed here and 
worked while I was away, but Nett, you 
don’t seem so happy. You know, if you 
don’t tell me, I cannot help you.” 

Nett stood thinking for a while, then said, 
“Silas, I want to go to the city to study to 
become a trained nurse.” 

If Nett had told her brother that she 
wanted to go to Africa to catch tigers he 
could not have looked any more horror- 
stricken. 

“Oh, Nell! You go to the city?” His heart 
nearly stopped beating. 

“Yes, Si, I cannot stay here; something 
seems to call me, this is not my sphere.” 

Like a flash, the thoughts of what he had 
seen and heard in the city dawned upon 
him ; he had heard men vie with each other 
in trying to win girls to their way of living. 


90 


THE RESENTMENT 


He had seen girls dancing*, thinly clad, in 
cabarets — young* and beautiful girls. He 
had seen others staggering from hotels, half 
drunk, in the late house of the night, and 
most of these girls, he had been told, had 
migrated from the South. They had come 
of good, Christian families, but, not being 
properly prepared against the evils of the 
city, they soon fell an easy prey to these 
things, which at first seemed harmless.. “My 
God, if Nett would fall to such evils, it would 
drive me crazy. She is a woman, and, if 
she should lose her character and virtue, 
however innocent she may be, the world 
would never forgive her; she would carry 
the stain to her grave. But, how can I say 
‘No?’ He looked again at his sister, and, 
for the first time, he saw that she was a 
woman, not the little Nett he had always 
thought of ; childhood had flown, there she 
stood at the age of seventeen, in the full 
bloom of youth, and at the most critical 
period of her life. 

Nett, seeing the shadows upon her broth- 
er's face, asked, “What is the matter, Si?" 

He drew a long breath and said, “Nett, 
it would grieve me to see you go to the city 
alone and unprotected. You do not know 
how many temptations exist there; it takes 


THE RESENTMENT 


91 


a strong-minded person, and one with a deal 
of foresight, to resist them, and I am afraid 
the strongest often falls.” 

“But, Si, you went and returned all right.” 

“Yes, I went and returned but .” 

His voice faltered; Nett saw that there 
was something that seemed unpleasant for 
him to recall. Then he told her the whole 
story of his temptation. After he had fin- 
ished, Nett said, “But you are better and 
stronger than ever before; ” 

“Yes, sister, but it seems that the scar 
will always remain; yet I cannot be selfish; 
we will talk the matter over with father 
and mother. If they are willing, I must be, 
too.” 

At supper that night, Silas told his parents 
of Nett’s wish. At first they both were in- 
clined to say no, but when they saw the 
pleading look in her eyes, they realized how 
good and faithful she had been, and con- 
sented to her wish — who could have said 
“no” to this girl? 

About a week later Silas made a business 
trip to town. Upon his return he called 
Nett and told her that he had good news 
for her, but she must guess what it was. 

“No, I cannot guess; please do not hold 
me in suspense.” 


92 


THE RESENTMENT 


“Mrs. Thompson stopped me today and 
asked me if I thought you would like to go 
to Philadelphia to live with her daughter 
who has recently married. I told her that 
you were thinking of going away in the 
near future. She told me to tell you that 
her daughter, Mrs. Schafer, would like you 
to do light housework for her; she also said 
she would give you good wages and take 
good care of you.” 

“Silas, that is fine; I shall never have 
words to thank you.” 

Turning to her parents, she asked them 
if it would be all right. Poor Mr. Miller 
nearly groaned at the thought of his only 
daughter leaving them, but he knew that 
she could not get sufficient education in the 
country to become a trained nurse. He told 
her if she would do as well as Si had done, 
he would be willing that she should go. 

Mrs. Thompson called to see Mrs. Miller 
about Nett. She was charmed with the 
manner of the young colored girl, so cul- 
tured and refined. It was soon settled that 
she should go. 

If Silas’ going away had caused much 
comment, Nett caused more. When Aunt 
Mollie heard the news, she made many vig- 
orous attacks upon her snuff box before 


THE RESENTMENT 


93 


she said anything*; then she said, “I s’pose 
John Miller thinks dis goin’ away plan is ah 
right. It may be. all right for dee boy, but 
for de sak ob me, I caint see how he has de 
heart to sen’ dat li’l gal away; but, I s’pose 
she’ll git along all right, 'cayse she seems 
lak she’s mo’ fitted fo’ an angel in Heab’n 
den any whars I knows ob. She done choos- 
ed a good work, ’cause she’ll make a good 
Nu’se fo’ de po’ an’ de ’dieted.” 

As Nett grew to womanhood she was 
loved by all. The little Sunday School class 
that she had taught for over four years 
loved her as few women are loved by chil- 
dren other than their own mothers. Hear- 
ing that she was about to leave them, they 
saved their pennies and bought her a little 
prayer book with these words inscribed up- 
on the back: By their fruits ye shall know 
them. 

On the first day of April, Nett left home 
to take her place amongst the thousands 
of women toilers of the city. That morn- 
ing she felt sad when she saw her little 
brothers standing with tearful eyes, wait- 
ing to say “good-bye/’ but she played her 
part well. “Now please don’t look as if I 
were about to start upon a funeral march; 
I am going to write you long letters every 


94 


THE RESENTMENT 


week and tell you all I see and do,” she said 
gavlv as she came down the stairs. “And* 
of "course, you know I will spend my vaca- 
tion here, on this glorious old spot, as your 
guest.” 

She said so many other funny things that 
everybody was soon laughing. Silas felt the 
worst. “I am losing my right hand, my best 
friend, but one good turn deserves another. 
This rural life is too narrow for our am- 
bitions, unselfish, broad-minded Nett.” 

He thought again and again to warn her 
against considering every acquaintance she 
chanced to meet, a confidential friend, but 
he thought it best to let her use her own 
judgment. With this decision, he kissed 
her good-bye. 

The next morning Nett Miller awoke to 
find herself in a strange city, among strange 
people. But ere she had been here long, she 
had made a few warm friends. She was 
well liked by everybody. Mrs. Schafer 
taught her her way of working; she was 
very quick to learn, but found things so dif- 
ferent from what she had been used to in 
her humble home in the South. 

She wrote home at the end of each week 
as she had promised. Her letters were long 
and interesting, and so funny that all roared 


THE RESENTMENT 


95 


with laughter until the end was reached. 

One day Mrs. Schafer invited some com- 
pany to supper. After eating, they congrat- 
ulated Mrs. Schafer on the well-prepared 
meal and asked where they got such a good 
girl. She told them that she had come from 
the South and had been with them only a 
short while. “She is an unusual girl, and 
seems to take more interest in her work than 
most girls who work out and whose main 
object is to just get through some how. 
She seems more like one of the family than 
a servant. I do hope she will stay with us 
for years.” Mr. Schafer added, “Yes, but 
I am afraid that she is not made to be a house 
servant long; in several cases I have seen 
such girls who proved far more intelligent 
and rose to great heights than the persons 
by whom they were employed/’ 

“I find that that is very true, especially 
amongst the colored people,” said Mr. Cat- 
iin. “From experience, I find that the white 
man can seldom fathom the Negro; I know 
of one particular case that I often recall. A 
young colored boy worked for an intimate 
friend of mine. He worked there several 
years, then he left, telling them he was go- 
ing to follow another vocation; he being a 
colored boy, they paid little or no attention 


96 


THE RESENTMENT 


to this remark. After that, he would call 
unexpectedly some time during each year 
to see if they had any extra work they want- 
ed done. The}' always found something for 
him to do, as they liked him and the children 
went wild about ‘Tom.’ To us he did not 
show any knowledge above that of a mere 
working boy, but he possessed good manners, 
quiet, clean habits. Often, we both referred 
to these good qualities in him and gave the 
cause to the fact that he had worked for 
our race of people since a child. .The real 
fact was — it takes the (keenest and most 
scientific white man to discover the great, 
deep qualities of the black man. \ My friend 
was one of the greatest surgeons of the 
State, but it never once occurred to him to 
talk of his great knowledge of medical 
science to that boy. Years passed and they 
had seen nor heard nothing of Tom. One 
day my friend was called to witness a very 
difficult operation ; he has told me more than 
a dozen times that he was nearly dumb- 
founded to learn that the doctor who was to 
perform the operation was colored; and 
when he looked more closely and found it 
was Tom, his surprise was complete.” 

“Yes,” said Mr. Schafer. “I have thought 
from the first that Nett is a girl for far great- 


THE RESENTMENT 


97 


er service than ours.” 

Nett overheard part of the conversation 
as she flitted here and there doing her work. 
“Yes,” she said to herself, “and here's an- v 
other colored child somebody's going to hear 
from in years to come,” clapping her hands 
playfully. 

As anxious as Nett was to work, she often 
grew homesick and would sometimes cry, 
but she said nothing of this in her letters. 

Mrs. Schafer found that they lived near a 
church owned by colored people. She told 
Nett this, and made it convenient for her to 
attend Sunday School there every Sunday 
afternoon. Nett found it very much dif- 
ferent here than the little chapel in the coun- 
try where she had attended Sunday School 
since a little girl. There everybody knew 
her and was glad to see her; here they hard- 
ly noticed her. She was assigned to a class,, 
but they all being city-raised girls, were 
barely civil to her. She did not mind this 
much as she did not intend to let so small a 
thing spoil her career. 

Mrs. Schafer saw that she was fond of/ 
reading and gave her free access to the li- 
brary. This helped Nett and proved to be 
great company for her. 

Unlike most ladies who employ help, Mrs. 


98 


THE RESENTMENT 


Schafer did not think that a servant was a 
mer machine to grind out work day by day 
without a little recreation. She would find 
out if any of her friends had good colored 
girls, then she would make arrangements 
for Nett to go out with them, to see some of 
the city sights, such as Willow Grove, to 
photo-plavs and other good places of amuse- 
ment. When she could not find the right 
girls she took Nett herself. She took her to 
the large department stores and taught her 
how to buy good materials and not cheap, 
gaudy things. Mrs. Schafer also encourag- 
ed her to save a little money each month out 
of her wages. This she did not have to ever 
refer to, because it was Nett’s one idea to 
save money to enter the training school for 
nurses. 

Several ladies were having a tea with Mrs. 
Schafer one afternoon when one of the la- 
dies, a Mrs. Gregg, asked her how did she 
manage to keep a girl so long. 

“By treating her like a human being,” an- 
swered Mrs. Schafer. 

“I don’t find any worth treating as a hu- 
man being,” said Mrs. Wise. “If you treat 
them right, they don’t appreciate it and by 
the time you have them trained into your 
way of working, they will walk off to some 


THE RESENTMENT 


99 


other place for a few pennies more/’ 

“I think it takes a fair-minded employer 
and a good, conscientious employee to get 
along good,” said Mrs. Schafer. 

‘That's patting your own self on the back,” 
snapped Mrs. Gregg. 

“Well, maybe I am a little conceited,” an- 
swered Mrs. Schafer, “but nevertheless, I 
always keep my girls, you see that, I sup- 
pose.” 

“Yes, some people will tolerate any kind 
of a girl, to keep from doing their work 
themselves,” said Mrs. Gregg, conclusively. 

“Hand it to me, Mrs. Gregg, I think that 
you will find my house as well kept as any.” 
answered Mrs. Schafer, good-naturedly. 

“See here, ladies, don't let us get on cross 
terms about hired girls ; life is too short for 
such things, and you, Mrs. Schafer, wait un- 
til you have been hiring girls for thirty 
year, then you can talk,” said Mrs. Baird, 
who was very quiet and had had little to 
say. 

At this remark the ladies turned their con- 
versation to other interesting things. 

Nett met several girls who worked near 
her. She told them of her chosen course 
and how she planned to work for her educa- 
tion. To her surprise, they did not seem at 


100 


THE RESENTMENT 


all interested, nor did they encourage her. 
They told her that she was crazy to work 
herself to death and deprive herself of 
clothes and pleasure just to go to school. 
One of the girls asked her if she ever intend- 
ed to catch a city beau and if she did, she 
certainly would have to dress better. “No/* 
said Nett, with a gleam of heated defiance 
in her eyes. “I hope you do not think that I 
came all the way up from the South to work 
to catch a city beau, and if I did, I am sure 
I would let him do the ‘catching.’ ”, 

But her temper softened when she thought 
that they did not understand her. She 
talked long - , trying to show them how ed- 
ucation lifted them above the masses of the 
peoples and fitted them to deal proficiently 
with the difficult things of the world that 
confronted her race at a period when the 
best men and women obtainable are in great 
demand to help the less fortunate of the 
coming generation. 

Poor Nett’s words fell like seed on a 
desert’s waste, they could neither grasp nor 
absorb them. Even while she talked, they 
would be winking and calling her the preach- 
er in undertone voices. It made her weep to 
think that she could not make the others see 
or understand things as she did. 


THE RESENTMENT 


101 


Nett Miller did not. know that she lived 
far ahead of her time. , Her thoughts and 
ideas were too progressive for their weak 
and undeveloped mind. Many have been 
like Nett Miller, striving and struggling to 
•convince others to see their ideas of think- 
ing and doing; such persons often die wreck- 
ed and heart-broken, but years afterward, 
while they slept the eternal sleep, the seed 
that they have sown took root and slowly 
pushed through the uncultivated soil. Such 
seeds would be readily recognized. 

Dear readers, if you are striving to con- 
vince this slow-awakening race to some idea 
or purpose, do not tire, if at first they seem 
unable to grasp your meaning. Ere many 
years have passed, if not you, others will see 
the efforts of your work. 



























CHAPTER VIII. 


U I SEIALL NOT ALWAYS BE CALLED 
A NIGGER” 

Several years passed since Silas Miller 
stood in the field on Mr. Baxter’s farm with 
tears streaming down his face and in hot 
rebellion uttered the words that head this 
chapter. It seems that he is about to make 
good this statement. He purchased the 
large farm, the farm which he had told Nett 
of the day she expressed her desire to go to 
the city. Now, after six months, it was not 
large enough. The demand for hogs was 
far greater than he could fill. The feeding 
and care of them were great responsibilities. 
He employed several men, but one knows it 
is hard to get help who will take real interest 
in such work. This made Silas work hard 
during the day, and plan and think out the 
difficult problems at night. Several times 
he thought of trying to persuade Nett to 
come back and help him. He had already 
employed a girl from town to help in the 
office with the letters and the bills. But, 


104 


THE RESENTMENT 


not being so well experienced she could not 
keep pace with the heavy work. He knew 
that Nett could manage things better, yet 
he was afraid that if he did so, he would 
change her plans. She had helped him to 
get his start. Silas had become the chief 
object of interest in Kent County. Each 
day some farmer would sav to another, 
“Have you bought any of Miller’s hogs?” 
Or, in answer to where they could buy some 
good hogs, they would sav, “Have you tried 
at Miller’s? He is said to have the best 
hogs in this State.” Others would say to 
some of their friends, “Don’t you know that 
Miller is going ahead fast, give him a few 
years longer and he will be at the top of 
the ladder.” And still others referred to 
him as “that smart black man,” but no one 
ever called him “Nigger” — he had passed 
that stage. 

Silas already saw the necessity of a good 
typist to attend to his work. He tried sev- 
eral times to obtain one, but it seemed a dif- 
ficult task. None of the city girls cared to 
come to the country to live, and typists in 
the country were as scarce as “hen teeth.” 
Silas thought often of Margaret Kempt. He 
had written to her occasionally, as he had 
promised, and she answered promptly each 


THE RESENTMENT 


105 


time. Rut he thought she did so just to 
make good her promise. 

Margaret had completed her course at the 
business school and was working in her fa- 
ther's office. She had grown to be a beauti- 
ful young woman, quiet and reserved. Many 
called her vain, but when they knew her well, 
they loved her. Many young men called 
and tried to interest Margaret, but she 
treated them all alike. Leonard Morgan, 
the son of one of Mr. Kempt's most intimate 
friends, had called frequently. Both fam- 
ilies had looked forward to this match, but 
Margaret could not be persuaded to enter- 
tain the slightest interest in him. Leonard 
Morgan was everything that one could wish 
a young man to be, having graduated from 
the School of Pharmacy at one of the lead- 
ing colleges ; he was also well accomplished 
in music. He belonged to several well- 
known clubs, and was one of the foremost 
young men in the younger social set. Most 
girls would have gladly accepted him, but 
Margaret was. only sociably polite. 

Both her father and mother wished to see 
their only daughter well-stationed in mar- 
ried life, and insisted that she should accept 
Mr. Morgan. 

One day her father reminded her that she 


106 


THE RESENTMENT 


should be more sociable and courteous to* 
the young callers. “You know, Margaret, 
you are my all, and .” 

Margaret did not let her father finish ; she 
went to where he was sitting, putting her 
arms around his neck, she said, ‘‘Dear Dad, 
you and mother are my all. I cannot think 
of leaving you yet, besides, I want to be free 
years and years to enjoy this glorious life. 
Furthermore, Papa, these young men dis- 
gust me; I cannot tolerate them. All they 
think of is women, and women and sport. I 
wish I had wings, I would fly away and find 
men who could find something sensible to 
talk about.” 

“Yes, Margaret, I know that we all love 
each other, but it would be so selfish if we 
would wish to keep you to ourselves. God 
gave you to us late in life; we are both get- 
ting old. This life is short, but death is 
certain. It would grieve me to leave you 
alone and unprotected. Margaret, darling*, 

I would be happy to see you married to some 
good, young man; besides, mother and I 
would love to hold a little grandchild in our 
arms.” Mr. Kempt’s words were soft and 
pleading. It was a beautiful sight to see 
father and daughter sitting with their arms 
around each other. Her jet black hair was 


THE RESENTMENT 


107 


against his silvery gray hair. 

Margaret thought a while, then said, 
^When I find a young man who really loves 
me for what I am, and not for what shall be 
mine some day; when I find a man that can 
honor good womanhood and appreciate me 
because I have tried to live to be a good 
woman, then, father, I shall marry; but,” 
Margaret shook her head sadly, and said 
"“But Dad, I am afraid I shall have a long 
wait.” 

Attorney Kempt looked aghast at his child, 
so young, so pure and innocent, but by no 
means ignorant of the ways of men. 

“Dad, if I should marry, I shall ask God 
to give me sons, a half-dozen sons, then I 
would spare nothing to teach them the sac- 
red duty toward women. To have good / 
women we must have better men. Don't 
you think, Father, that men would be differ- 
ent if they were taught from childhood, by 
their parents, the sacredness of the virtue of 
women?” 

The great , learned attorney bowed his 
head and said, “Yes, daughter, you are right, 

I guess.” 

When Margaret went back to her desk, 
her father sat long, with his head resting in 
his hands, buried in deep thought. Here 


108 


TH E RESENTMENT 


sat a man thinking and thinking upon a sub- 
ject that should have required no thought 
for him. He was a man that few men could 
approach with any subject that he could not 
readily and openly converse on. The great 
problems that confront races and nations 
to-day were naught to him. Many had 
heard this learned man in the courts where 
he spoke concisely and with great ease. 
They had commended on his great ability of 
discussion, but to-day he faltered and stam- 
mered before the simple question of his 
daughter. His little Margaret, whom he 
had planned to make one of the leading 
belles of the city, and whom he had hoped 
would marry into some wealthy family of his 
associates, had chosen an entirely different 
course. He saw the great love of purity 
ebbing through her soul, and the effect was 
that she wanted sons, that she might teach 
them the sacredness of man’s duty toward 
woman that the women of her race might 
be better. 

How openly she had talked with hem, and 
in these years he had said nothing to help 
his girl to battle against the temptation of 
men. He had willingly ushered young men 
into his home without a thought of their 
care for his child: without thought of their 


THE RESENTMENT 


109 


intentions, whether good or bad. He won- 
dered if his wife had told Margaret any of 
these things; they had both taught her eti- 
quette of social life, how to choose company 
from the best of families, but the deep things 
which Margaret had spoken of to-day, seem- 
ed to him so immodest until he heard them 
from the lips of his own daughter. “There 
must be something wrong or Margaret 
would not have wished to bring sons into the 
world to make better men,” thought her 
father. 

This conversation made father and daugh- 
ter inseparable companions. Mr. Kempt 
told Margaret many things that fathers 
should tell their daughters. He found that 
it was his duty as well as the mother’s. 

One day, after Margaret and her mother 
had had some heated words over Mr. Mor- 
gan, Mr. Kempt came in and found them 
both in tears. “Mother, I know both yon 
and I would like to see Margaret marry 
Leonard. To us, he seems to be an ideal 
man, but we must not interfere. I am sure 
that she can be trusted to choose a good hus- 
band. Margaret and I have talked a great 
deal together, lately, and I find that she has 
noble ideas. We will let her instinctive 
powers lead her to the right man. We must 


110 


THE RESENTMENT 


not let this thing make a gulf between us. I 
strictly forbid that this matter should ever 
be mentioned to her again.” Then Mr. 
Kempt kissed both women who were so dear 
to him, and the source of all his happiness. 

A few weeks after this conversation Mar- 
garet received a letter from Silas. After 
reading it, she went to her father and asked 
him to guess who the letter was from. “I 
don't know, dear, you get so many letters I 
am afraid I’d have a fine time guessing." 

“Well, if you have given it up, I shall have 
to tell you. It's from Silas Miller, and just 

look, Dad ." Margaret held up a 

hand full oEcirculars and advertising matter. 
A long folding card contained a picture of 
the farm and buildings; here and there were 
large groups of hogs scattered over several 
lots and many fields of growing grain. 

Mr. Kempt took the card and looked at it 
for some time. He read how Silas Miller* 
the coming Hog King of the State, had work- 
ed his way from a single litter of six hogs, 
in a little back lot, to the ownership of a 
three-hundred-acre farm and thousands of 
the best hogs in the country. “Wonderful," 
exclaimed Mr. Kempt, “I knew from the 
first day that I saw him that he would make 
a good man." Mr. Kempt read Silas' letter 


THE RESENTMENT 


111 


to Margaret. Silas invited Margaret and 
her parents to come to see him, and said, “I 
shall never forget how you made it easy for 
me to bear the loneliness of being away from 
home, and how your father's words helped 
me when I was heartbroken over the money 
which I lost in the pool room that night, due 
to my ignorance of the game. Margaret, 
you do not know how your words “when you 
go back on the farm" made me stick more 
firmly to the promise that I made father be- 
fore leaving home. I am doing fine, but am 
putting every effort forward to do better, 
each year of my life. Nett, my dear sister, 
is in your city. She expects to enter a train- 
ing school for nurses there, in the near fu- 
ture. You cannot imagine how much I miss 
her. At first, it seemed almost impossible 
to get along without her help. Her advice 
has always been so helpful, and she could do 
so many little things that I would never 
have thought of. I do hope some day that 
you two shall meet. It would make me so 
happy.” 

Silas wrote a long letter. After reading 
it, Mr. Kempt marveled at the splendid man- 
hood. Only a country lad, not yet twenty- 
three years old, and to have braved such 
vicissitudes to become an independent man. 


112 


THE RESENTMENT 


Handing the letter back to Margaret, he 
said, “A thoroughbred young man, dear/’ 

“Yes, father, I think he’s great.” 

That night Margaret lay awake thinking 
of Silas and Nett. She recalled all her ac- 
quaintances among young men, but not one 
measured up to Silas Miller. “My friends 
may laugh at me for liking a country boy, 
but who could help liking Silas ! I certainly 
would be glad to meet Nett,” so musing she 
fell asleep. 

Time passed quickly by. Nett had just 
returned from her vacation. She worked 
six months longer, then Mrs. Schafer help- 
ed to gain admittance to Hospital. 

It was hard work, but not a girl in the class 
was more industrious or faithful to duty 
than Nett Miller. When the other girls 
murmured and complained about the un- 
pleasant work of a probationer, she was al- 
ways cheerful and willing. 

She had chosen her course and accepted 
whatever duties assigned her without com- 
plaint. This won for her great commenda- 
tion from the hospital staff, but made her 
less popular amongst the members of her 
class. They called her “green-horn” and ac- 
cused her of seeking favoritism of the in- 
structors and trying to artract the atten- 


f 


THE RESENTMENT 113 

tion of the internes. They were jealous and 
would not associate with her, but she did 
not for once heed their uncultured remarks 
or petty taunts. 

The patients with whom she came in con- 
tact all loved her. It was always, “Where 
is Miss Miller ?” or “Can Miss Miller wait 
on me?” and it was always Nett who took 
the place of others when off duty. Often 
she would do the work of two, trying to 
help some girl along. When off duty she 
would read and write long, interesting let- 
ters home, and take long walks. She was 
always quiet and thoughtful most of the 
time, but, like other girls, she liked fun and 
friends; yet, both seemed to be denied her. 

It was near Christmas; all the girls were 
looking forward to the holidays; each was 
expecting something from home. Nett 
knew she would get a check from Silas, but 
when she went to breakfast Christmas 
morning, she was surprised to find two 
packages, one was a box of candy and the 
other contained a beautiful fountain pen. 
Nett stood speechless, “Who could have 
sent them? And the pen is just what I 
needed.” 

“O, girls, look what I have, but I can’t 
imagine who sent them,” she explained. 


114 


THE RESENTMENT 


“Oh, Nett Miller, you can’t bluff us. you 
are always trying to play ‘Meeky Moses;’ 
ycu know some of your numerous admirers 
sent them,” said Daisy Smith. 

Nett did not reply to this remark, and 
Anna Gould added, “Nett makes me tired, 
she tries to be Miss Goody-good, and there 
isn’t a doctor here that hasn’t got his eyes 
open.” 

“Now, girls, don’t tell tales out of school,” 
said Lucy Beck. 

“Oh, it doesn’t matter, let them enjoy 
themselves,” said Nett in an indignant man- 
ner, not understanding the sarcasm in Lucy 
Beck’s remark. 

Several days after Christmas one of the 
strictest rules of the hospital was broken 
by some of the nurses; no one seemed to 
know who did it, and the guilty one would 
not acknowledge the deed. 

Anna Gould frankly declared that Nett 
Miller did it. She had always been envious 
of Nett and took this opportunity, to give 
vent to her feelings by saying something to 
reflect upon her character, or demerit her 
in her class. 

Poor Nett’s heart nearly failed her when 
she thought of the disgrace of being de- 
merited and the hard work she would have 


THE RESENTMENT 


115 


to do as a punishment for an act she had 
not committed. 

When the Superintendent asked her about 
it. she said, “I will tell you truthfully, I did 
not do it; but I can take the punishment 
and save some poor, unfortunate girl who 
is too narrow-minded to admit her own 
guilt. It is hard, but I can bear it for her 
sake.” 

All the girls hung their heads, they had 
suspected a heated resentment from Nett, 
but she took the unjust accusation so sub- 
missively that it struck home to the heart 
of every girl, yet none dare to own the deed. 

Miss Wolf, Superintendent of the. Hos- 
pital, not being too courteous with the girls, 
and who never let them forget her authority 
to rule, said, “Miss Miller, you shall do 
double duty beginning tonight, for one week; 
it must be understood that rules in this place 
cannot be broken, and, if so, that person or 
persons must bear the penalty.” 

Nett went on duty that night with heart 
aflame with anger. While she accepted the 
blame, she was wholly guiltless and could 
not help feeling the sting of shame. But, 
when she heard the groans of the sick and 
dying, all was forgotten. Her heart swell- 
ed with pity, “I should thank God that I am 


116 


THE RESENTMENT 


able to do duty, instead of being angry,” 
she thought to herself. She then went quiet- 
ly among her patients humming within her- 
self her favorite hymn: 

“Does Jesus care when the way seems 
dark. 

Too deep for mirth or pain.” 

She had hardly begun her work when she 
heard whispers amongst the patients, “Miss 
Miller is on duty.” Everyone loved her; 
she was so patient, so kind, and the very 
touch of her soft, brown hands seemed to 
ease the severest pain. 

Nett did not know that, as she moved to 
and fro. straightening a pillow here to make 
a patient more comfortable, or coaxing an- 
other to try to sleep, or to wipe a tear from 
the eyes of a poor, home-sick soul, that two 
eyes were watching her; nor did she know 
that this noble deed had lifted her to the 
heights of angels in the eyes of the one who 
watched. But she did know that Dr. Lionel 
came and asked her how she was getting 
along. “Oh, fine, I thank you,” she replied. 
He said nothing more. Nett so loved her 
work that she soon forgot she was being- 
punished for another's deed. 

Dr. Lionel, one of the internes at the hos- 
pital, knew who had broken the rule, and 


THE RESENTMENT 


117 


he had gone purposely that night, to see 
how Nett worked. He had watched for 
more than half an hour before he said any- 
thing. He had suspected to find her pout- 
ing and sulking; but, when he saw her at 
work, and heard her sweet, soft voice speak- 
ing so gently to the patients, he said to 
himself, “I have never seen such a woman; 
she is an angel of pity.” He had seen and 
knew who had broken the rule and had also 
heard the plot to put the blame on Net t. 

At the table, or wherever Nett met the 
other girls, they felt somewhat penitent to 
see that she was not even angry with them. 
The memory of her deed would never be 
erased from their hearts. 

Several times Miss Dunn urged Anna 
Gould to let her tell the truth about it. “I 
think you are the silliest goose that ever 
was born, if you ever were born ; sometimes 
I doubt if you were, you have so little sense. 
Now the thing is forgotten and you want 
to stir it up again; I don’t see where Nett 
is any the worse off for setting up a few 
nights when it was not her turn. Maybe 
she will let her head down a little now, and 
not go around looking like some saint just 
dropped from the sky. It will give a good 
chance to be an angel, because we usually 


118 


THE RESENTMENT 


pay for everything in this world.” 

“Yes. Anna. I am afraid we do,” replied 
Katie Dunn. 

But Anna Gould did not fully realize the 
meaning of the words, “we pay.” 



CHAPTER IX. 

OBSTACLES 


We go oil in life working, hoping, com- 
templating success. But it is not the na- 
ture of man to contemplate failure. This 
we accept generally without premeditation, 
but as failures are often hidden blessings 
how much better it is to happen in early 
life, when we are young and can easily erad- 
icate the pangs of disappointments. As it 
is in youth when we can withstand the scene 
of shadowed air castles or day dreams with- 
out losing hope. It is at this period of life 
we can with little encouragement work 
through. 

Since his return to the farm, Silas had 
been rapidly sailing on peaceful waters, but 
like a thunder bolt out of clear skies, came 
a disease. An epidemic, that wrought havoc 
among the hogs of all the farmers in several 
States, the South being the most effected. 
The best veterinarians were summoned, and 
every known drug made for dumb animals 
was used, but to little or no availr Poor 
Silas was compelled to watch some of his 


120 


THE RESENTMENT 


best breed entirely wiped out. and little 
hopes for the surviving ones. 

Fanners visited farmers in hopes of gain- 
ing some helpful information, for it seemed 
that each within himself had given up all 
hopes. Even when facing a thing that 
seemed hopeless,. Silas Miller displayed that 
same determination that had brought him 
thus far. 

“Miller, we are done for.” he would be 
told several times during the day, and when 
Mr. Poland, a well-to-do white farmer said, 
“Miller, it is all up with us,” Silas shook his 
head and answered, “No, Mr. Poland, there 
must be something, if we can only find it.” 

“Well, Si, if there is anything, you go 
and find it, and I hope a shad may shoot me, 
if there is a farmer within a hundred miles 
that won't buy it from you, excusing the 
price,” said Mr. Poland in an indignant man- 
ner. 

“That is what I'm going to do,” answered 
Silas with a little touch of that old confi- 
dential air that he usually possessed when 
being repulsed by another. 

On his way home, Silas met Mr. Baxter. 
“Good morning. Si. How are things going 
over your way?” 

“I cannot complain, Mr. Baxter. I have 


THE RESENTMENT 


121 


lost a great many hogs, but to the present, 
I have managed to save the greater por- 
tion. ,, 

“Then, I must say, boy, the gods seem to 
have been with you. I have lost every single 
hog, that I owned.” 

“But remember, Mr. Baxter, I have about 
twenty times as many as you, so I may not 
be any more blessed, but I have more to 
give.” 

“That is true, too. I must say, Si, you 
ihe the most optimistic young man that I 
have ever known. You have an act of see- 
ing rays of sunlight behind the darkest 
clouds.” 

“True to the old race, Mr. Baxter. I am 
now on my way to see if I cannot find some- 
thing to help fight this terrible disease.” 

“If there is anything to be found, you will 
find it, Si Miller,” said Mr. Baxter, laughing. 

“Let us hope.” 

“If there is anything I can do to help, do 
not fail to let me know, Si.” 
for home in a more hopeful spirit. On reach- 
ing home he found his father standing in 

Silas thanked Mr. Baxter, and started 
the doorway looking very downcasted. 

“Father, please don’t look as if the world 


122 


THE RESENTMENT 


has come to an end.” he said in a cheerful 
manner. 

*T am mighty glad you can take things so 
lightly.” his father answered almost abrupt- 
ly. “With all the work and money and time 
and everything you have in this business, 
and to see things going the way they are, 
appears to me you would be mighty nigh 
crazy, and for the life of me, I can’t see 
that things are getting any better.” 

“Dad, it is the hand of fate,” said Silas. 

Mr. Miller fairly groaned. It seemed to 
him that Silas had lost all sense of reason- 
ing. 

Seeing that his father was completely dis- 
couraged with his optimisticness, Silas put 
his hands gently on his father’s shoulder in 
his old familiar way and said, “Dear Dad, 
to become a good business man, you must 
expect failure with success, and one must 
also be a good loser. Yes, I do realize I 
have put much in this business, but in this 
life, we can’t expect more than we are will- 
ing to give.” 

“Then, I don’t suppose I have given much 
because it seems I don’t get much.” 

“Now, Dad, you know you are wrong. 
You are a rich man, and I dare say there 


THE RESENTMENT 


123 


are thousands that envy you this very mo- 
ment.” 

Mr. Miller looked at Silas as if he thought 
he had been suddenly bereft of his senses, 
but before he had time to ask what on earth 
did he mean, Silas continued by saying, “Just 
think of Nett, Dad! How much in cash 
would you take for her?” 

The clouds immediately disappeared from 
his father’s face. 

“Silas, child, in all the years of my life, 
I have never thought of such a thing. Well, 
there is not enough money in the United 
States Treasury or even in the entire world, 
to buy, not only Nett, but a single child I 
have.” 

“Then Dad. you possess priceless jew- 
elry.” 

Mr. Miller stood thinking, while Silas 
went to his little room, where he had spent 
many hours trying formula after formula. 
His heart was heavy, but he dare not waver 
in hopes. He worked far into the night, 
hoping ere the dawn of another day, that 
something could be found, but the morning’s 
mail brought an added burden. 

Officials of several States had issued a 
rigid warning To all farmers holding hogs 
affected or likely to be infected must be killed 


324 


THE RESENTMENT 


within ten days after the issue of warning 
unless a permanent cure has been produced . 
All persons keeping such hogs on their prem- 
ises would be subject to imprisonment or 
heavy fine or both. 

In spite of Silas Miller’s forced optimistic- 
ness, when he read this statement, he bowed 
his head and wept. It seemed as if this 
was more than he could bear. He wrote a 
long letter to Nett and one to Margaret. 
How anxiously he waited for Nett’s answer 
which he knew would be full of hope and 
encouragement. In the return mail came 
Margaret’s answer, full of sympathy, and 
several lines from Attorney Kempt which 
gave strength to hope, but Nett, why don’t 
she write? He wondered at her delay, she 
who was always so punctilious. Oh ! I sup- 
pose she is writing a book. Her letters are 
always so long. 

Several days passed; then came Nett’s 
reply. When Silas took the letter handed 
to him by the rural post delivery, it was so 
thin that he held it up to see if it contained 
anything beside the envelope. “Oh I sup- 
pose poor Nett is so tired trying to bear 
everybody else burdens and we can’t blame 
her either,” he soliloquized as he opened the 
letter. All it contained was a little verse 


THE RESENTMENT 


125 


dipped from a book or magazine and pin- 
ned to half sheet of paper, which read: 

“Thy fate is the common fate of all, 

Into each life some rain must fall, 

Some days are dark and dreary.” 

— Tennyson. 


Beneath this Nett wrote: 

Dear Silas: 

Tennyson wrote this for you. Don’t give 
up hope. 

Lovingly, 

NETT. 

Silas was so disappointed that it was 
some time before he could really grasp the 
meaning of that verse. He read and re- 
read it until at length he realized the 
strength of the words. “Yes, the great poet 
has in that one verse expressed more than 
Nett could have written in six long letters. 
But Nett is my very own, and one word from 
her is more to me than volumes from the 
greatest poets that the world has ever pro- 
duced,” Silas said as he placed the letter in a 
little drawer in his desk. 

Days passed rapidly on with no signs of 
relief. It was on the eve of the fifth day 


126 


THE RESENTMENT 


since the State had issued the order. Driv- 
en almost to despair, Silas went to his room 
immediately after supper. He wrung his 
hands in anguish, as he thought of the sac- 
rifices he had made, and the struggles he 
had endured, and now it seemed that it were 
to end so. 

Silas like most men and women as they 
prosper in life and rise to position and 
wealth, they are inclined to lean away from 
religion or its teaching. He had not become 
wholly skeptical, he was just too busy for 
such things, but God has a way of jogging 
our memories sometime. As he sat there 
thinking, slowly came the memories of his 
boyhood teachings. He recalled how a few 
years hence he had climbed the stairs to the 
dark and lonely bed room. How he had 
knelt beside the little pallet bed and asked 
that God whom his humble mother had 
taught him to ever serve and trust, to care 
for him and now when he should have trust- 
ed Him, he had nearly forgotten. Without 
further meditation, he knelt beside his bed 
and prayed for divine help to fight this epi- 
demic. He lacked that great childish faith 
as in former days, but he felt relieved. 

Aunt Mollie Noble had suffered much from 
rheumatism, and had been forced to stay 


THE RESENTMENT 


127 


at home the greater part of the time, so had 
missed much of the news and gossip of the 
neighborhood. When Mrs. Lee, one of the 
neighbors, brought her the startling news 
that there was a terrible disease amongst 
the hogs, and that they were all dying, and 
what wasn’t dying would be killed in the 
next few days, Aunt Mollie exclaimed, 
“What’s dat, you say? My Lor, child, 
what’s dat?” 

“Yes’um, its true, and dere is Si Miller, 
dev say his’m all dying, and I s’pose his all 
gits killed too. Bless de Lor,” said Aunt 
Mollie. 

As Mrs. Lee did not see anything to bless 
the Lord for, she continued, “W ell, you know, 
Aunt Mollie, ’taint no use for us colored 
folks to be reaching up so high and trying 
to get rich like the white folks, for we is 
shur to get fetched down.” 

If Mrs. Lee had expected a hearty response 
in her favor, she must have been both dis- 
appointed and astonished when Aunt Mollie 
answered barely audibly, “Um-hum.” In 
fact Mrs. Lee looked up as if she thought 
Aunt Mollie had not quite understood her, 
because when it came to condemning pros- 
perity, Aunt Mollie Noble seldom or never 
had to think for words. Instead she sat 


128 


THE RESENTMENT 


with folded arms staring into space. She 
had so little to say that Mrs. Lee asked, “if 
she was feeling well,” to which she replied, 
“Just tolerable, Sister Lee. But I am think- 
ing about poor Si. ’Tis likely he would be 
de most ’fected around here. It sho does 
seem ashamed for de chile, he has wurk so 
hard, but why don’t they send for some of 
dem animal doctors from the city?” 

“They has done everything Aunt Mollie, 
and dat is the reason they are going to kill 
the hogs to see if they can’t stop it.” 

Aunt Mollie sat down in her old rocker 
and began rocking and thinking. She had 
so little to say that Mrs. Lee soon left. A 
few minutes later, Aunt Mollie climbed the 
rickety old stairs that led to the attic. Push- 
ing the little door aside she said. “I wonder 
if I kin git through here. It has bin many a 
day since I was up here, and this doorway 
looks mighty small for my size.” After a 
rather squeezing effort, she managed to get 
through it. “It’s mighty dark and dusky, 
up har, and dat little window don’t let in 
much light, but I know de old trunk a mile 
away,” she said as she stepped cautiously 
over the creaking boards. 

She soon found the prize piece of paper. 
“Dat’s it,” she exclaimed, wiping the dust 


THE RESENTMENT 


129 


away. “I knowed it was in there. I will 
run over to get Mary Liza’s gal to put it on 
another piece of paper, as this is about to 
drop to pieces. 

Aunt Mollie had always been known to 
be the greatest prayer in the church; besides* 
being one of its strongest supporters. Each 
rising generation had been taught these 
things about her, until it seemed that no one 
ever thought of her possessing another vir- 
tue. In fact, the young people had long 
since found it impossible to listen to a well- 
prepared sermon without being annoyed al- 
most to distraction by her numerous ejacu- 
lations. 

Often the young minister just from Mor- 
gan College, and eager to show to his con- 
gregation how well he had prepared him- 
self to teach the Scripture, would be forced 
to stop in the middle of his sermon to let 
Aunt Mollie have a good shout. At other 
times he could succeed in keeping her quiet 
by repeatedly saying, “Now, Sister Noble* 
listen,” and then at the end of each sentence, 
she would yell at the top of her voice, “A- 
A-men!” 

If he could just keep her at this point, he 
would be satisfied, but the congregation 
would be interestedly listening to him in- 


130 


THE RESENTMENT 


toning the Scripture, when Aunt Mollie 
would suddenly throw up her hands and send 
forth several loud shrieking screams, while 
the startled congregation would be wonder- 
ing what had happened. She would shout: 
“Preach it! Preach it!” Then everybody 
knew Aunt Mollie was in the spirit, and every 
young girl within an arm’s reach would feel 
shaky about her spring bonnet; and every 
young man would eye anxiously his prize 
panama held by some young girl, because 
when Aunt Mollie was in the spirit she was 
no respector of hats nor heads. Many a 
young lass had returned from church carry- 
ing the remains of her hat in her hand, while 
the lads usually left theirs to the fate of the 
sweeper. 

To all who knew her, this was about the 
length of her religion, and the entire com- 
munity would have been surprised could they 
have witnessed her movements now. 

When she had gotten the recipe re-writ- 
ten, she made hasty preparation to make her 
secret call on Silas Miller the next morning. 
Silas had just finished breakfast, and had 
gone to his little office when he heard Aunt 
Mollie’s voice, “Good morning. Brother Mil- 
ler, how’s all this morning?” he head her 
ask his father. “Goodness me. here comes 


THE RESENTMENT 


131 


the old gossiper; I do hope she'll stay out 
there and talk to father and mother, as I am 
in no frame of mind to listen to a lot of non- 
sense this morning.” He had barely uttered 
the words when she knocked at the office 
door. Silas moved slowly toward it with 
a mind to tell her he was so busy that he 
could not receive callers. But when he open- 
ed the door, Aunt Mollie popped in without 
an invitation. 

.Seating herself in the first chair she saw, 
she asked, “How is you to-day, Si?” 

“Oh, fairly well. Aunt Mollie, how are 
you?” 

“Well, just tolerable,” she replied. 

Instead of being annoyed, Silas found he 
felt rather kindly towards the old lady. He 
often said afterwards that something he had 
never seen before shone in her face. 

“How is you making out, honey,” she ask- 
ed in a voice so full of sympathy and tender- 
ness that he replied, “Oh, Aunt Mollie, we are 
done for, there is no help.” 

“Now, Si, don’t say that, chile, has you 
prayed?” 

“Yes, Aunt Mollie,” answered Silas, bow- 
ing his head, yet he was conscious of a slight 
embarrassment or shame, at which Aunt 


13 2 


THE RESENTMENT 


Mollie took no notice, for she replied, “Thank 
God” 

Reaching her hand far down in the bosom 
of her waist she drew forth a little piece of 
crumpled paper. “Der Silas is a recipe that 
old Marse Causdon used to use for his hogs 
when dev got sick, and my Sammy used to 
use it for his’m too, when we were raising 
hogs.” 

“ ’Tis so old that I could scarcely read it, 
so I went over and got Mary Liza’s gal to 
write it off for me, and brung it here with me 
dis morning. It’s been many a long day 
since I seen it used, but it’s good. You jest 
read it and let me har how she is got it 
down, ’cause des har young things scribble 
so fast dey don’t gib you time to ketch your 
breath before dey is asking ‘what next’ ; and 
when dey get it all down, dey can’t read it 
demselves and how dey spects any one else to 
know beats me.” 

How eagerly Silas Miller bent down and 
read that little note. After reading it him- 
self he read it to Aunt Mollie. 

“Dat’s it, de very stuff. You go and get 
a big iron pot, and I’ll help you get some of 
it mixed.” 

Aunt Mollie worked the entire afternoon. 
Having seen remedies of the best veterinar- 


THE RESENTMENT 


133 


ians failed. Silas seemed to have no doubt 
about Aunt Motlie’s. When she had finish- 
ed Silas insisted on taking her home in his 
car. 

“No, chile/’ she said, shaking her head 
vigorously. “When I gets into one of dem 
chariots, I wants to go clean home to glory. 
Dese things sends von up, and den you comes 
down. No, T shall walk and den I know I 
shall get dere safe.” 

“Now Si, you jest feed some of dat stuff 
to each hog. Den you get down on your 
knees and git hold of dat wire dat leads 
from earth to glory and you ring til you 
gits an answer. 

“Si Miller, don’t you be like dese har folks 
dat call themselves de fore hundred. Dey is 
dat proud dat dey is skeptic. After God has 
gib dem their health and strength to earn 
de libbing by the sweat of der brow, den dey 
has de gall to stand up and say 'Der aint no 
God.’ If dey own Him dey call Him by so 
many big names, dat you hab to stand and 
think who dey is talking about.” 

“Der was old Abe Lincoln. He never got 
so high up dat he could not git down on his 
knees. Don’t you git too proud to pray, Si- 
las,” she said as she walkd slowing toward 
the gate. 


134 


THE RESENTMENT 


As Aunt Mollie walked along the lonely 
country road, she prayed and pleaded with 
God as only a child can plead with his earthly 
father. “Now, dear Father, I don’t ask for 
myself, but for dat humble chile. Si Miller. 
Dear Father, you heard me when I prayed 
in de cotton patches, when my po old back 
was aching and my feet were blistered- 
Dear Father, don’t forsake me now.” 

How little did she or Silas suspect that 
that little slip of paper contained the an- 
swer to their prayers. 

Not even Aunt Mollie’s closest friend, Sis- 
ter Maria Dudley, could have deemed it pos- 
sible that Aunt Mollie had gne and worked 
an entire day without a word of gossip, but 
with encouraging words so full of faith. 

Twelve hours passed, and Silas saw a 
change that was almost miraculous. He 
sent word and help to many of the farmers 
requesting them to pass the good news on to 
others. Thus, the news that Miller had pro- 
duced a cure spread like wild-fire. When 
Mr. Baxter heard it, he came over to see for 
himself if it was true. 

After Silas had shown the farmer the 
proof, he said, “I must admit that I was a 
doubting Thomas. Si, we have thought you 
a wonder for some time, but by golly I do 


THE RESENTMENT 


135 


believe you are a wizard.” 

“But you are wrong- for once, Mr. Baxter, 
everything I tried failed/’ 

The astonished farmer looked his surprise. 
“I don’t understand you, Si. Here are all of 
your hogs recovering and all of the farmers 
that have used the remedy report the same 
success, and you stand here and say all of 
your remedies failed.” 

“Could not some one else produce a cure?” 

“Yes, but it seemed that no one did.” 

“But some one did, and not I.” 

“Gracious, goodness whom, Si Miller?” 

“Aunt Mollie Noble.” 

“Do you mean Aunt shouting Mollie?” 

“The same,” replied Si, pleased to see the 
perplexed look on Mr. Baxter’s face. 

“When she heard of this disease, she 
brought me a recipe of an old remedy they 
used when she was a slave, and stayed all 
day helping me to get it made.” 

“Si, do you remember that quotation that 
Lincoln wrote about the good and bad in us? 
I guess there is a lot of truth in that saying,” 
said Mr. Baxter, meekly. 

A week later, Silas drove to Aunt Mollie’s 
humble shanty. It was a bright, warm April 
day. The balmy spring air felt refreshing 
to Silas. The great nerve strain of the past 


136 


THE RESENTMENT 


weeks showed plainly upon him. He seem* 
ed to have grown years older, but to-day his 
face bore that bright, happy look possessed 
only when the heart is at ease. He found 
her with work all done, and sitting on a low 
stool in the doorway with a large family Bi- 
ble on her lap, with her specks nearly on the 
end of her nose. She was moving her finger 
slowly along, half spelling, half reading the 
passage, “I hear even the sparrow’s cry.” 
“How true,” she was saying when Silas call- 
ed, “Good morning. Aunt Mollie.” 

“Now look here boy, you might night scar- 
er me to death.” 

“Did vou thing I was an angel, Aunt Mol- 
lie?” 

“Now, Si Miller, you ought to be ashamed 
of yourself. An angel your color, and nary 
a wing hab you got.” 

“You see I am young, and maybe they 
haven’t grown out yet, and as to color, are 
all angels white, Aunt. Mollie?” 

Aunt Mollie readjusted her specks, put- 
ting them back in the same place, then said, 
“I often wonder dat myself. Si. If I can 
jest get in the glory land, I ain’t so particular 
about changing this old color.” 

“It’s genuine isn’t it, Aunt Mollie, don’t 
fade or wrinkle.” 


THE RESENTMENT 


137 


“You said it, now chile,” both laughed 
heartily. 

“We is been so busy talking that I ain’t 
tuk time to say come in, Si.” 

“No, I thank you, Aunt Mollie. I came 
over to bring you good news.” 

“What’s dat, honey?” 

“Your remedy has proved genuine.” 

“Oh, praise de Lord.” 

“And I came to thank you and ” 

“Did you thank de Lord, chile?” 

“Yes, Aunt Mollie.” This time without 
any of that false pride that he was conscious 
of before.” 

“Den chile, don’t you bother about a pore 
old worthless worm like me.” 

“But, Aunt Mollie, you must take some- 
thing. If any one else had been able to have 
done as much, it would have cost a small for- 
tune.” 

“Now, Si Miller, does you want to hurt my 
pore old feelings, dose you, Si?” 

“Jest think I would take money for help- 
ing out in the time of distress ! I knew dey 
don’t ’sider me much, but thank de Lord I 
can do a little kindness.” 

“But, Aunt Mollie ” 

“No, sir, Si, not a cent does this humble 
servant take.” 


138 


THE RESENTMENT 


Silas was about to give up, when he ask- 
ed. “Maybe there is something that you have 
been wanting for these many years. See if 
there is anything that you would like me 
to give you; I must give you something.” 

After a few minutes, Aunt Mollie said, 
“Yes, Silas, there is something that I has 
been wanting. 

“What is it, Aunt Mollie ?” 

“It is one of dem dar stones dat the kin 
folks put at de grave of their loved ones 
when dey die, but dey is so ’spensive, and I 
have always wanted one for Sammy. I has 
managed to put by a little against it, but am 
nowhere nigh it yet.” 

“Oh! Aunt Mollie, you mean a tomb- 
stone.” 

“Is dat what dey call dem? I have plumb 
forgot the name.” 

“Well, you go and have one made, just the 
kind vou want, and then let them send me 
the bill.” 

“But, Si, they are powerfully high.” 

Then thinking that she would not have as 
nice a one as he wanted her to have, Silas 
changed his mind, and asked her what she 
wanted on it. 

“I want Sammy’s age, death and his dis- 
charge from the Civil War.” 


THE RESENTMENT 


139 


“All right, Aunt Mollie, you shall have it.” 

Large drops of tears stood in her eyes as 
she tried to thank Silas for his noble gift. 
“Now, chile, I shall not forget you as long 
as I live, and I don’t calculate dat is long, 
for T am getting old.” 

“Yes. Aunt Mollie, your is the evening of 
life.” 

“Dat’s right, honey, and den comes de 
night, wid it de rest.” 

“Eternal rest. Aunt Mollie.” 

As Silas drove homeward that day, he re- 
alized that it is not ours to pass judgment 
upon our fellow man. While Aunt Mollie 
still bore the name of a gossiper, there v/as 
one who knew it was only a weakness, and 
in her heart she carried a debt of charitable- 
ness that could not be fathomed by human 
minds. 

Some weeks later when the young min- 
ister shook hands with Aunt Mollie saying, 
“There is more in you than shouting and 
praying,” she shook her head and said, 
“A-ah, Lord, chile,” a favorite expression 
which she used when she did not want to 
say out right, “Not all old folks are fools.” 

She was indeed rewarded when a few 
months later she went to the cemetery and 


140 


THE RESENTMENT 


saw the beautiful tomb -stone Silas had erect- 
ed at her beloved husband’s grave. In ex- 
pressing her delight she exclaimed, “the 
Lord bless Silas Miller — and won’t de folks 
be envious when dev sees dis beautiful 
stone. Why it's taller than any out here,” 
she mused as she looked around as far as 
her dim eyes could behold. Then she un- 
wrapped a small bundle that she had brought 
with her and displayed a beautiful silk 
American flag, which she proudly wrapped 
about the stone. 

It was sometime before Silas could grasp 
the same working spirit as he hitherto had 
possessed. He said, “It was like climbing a 
mighty mountain, when about half way up, 
to find oneself suddenly plunged to the very 
bottom, to begin all over again. 

Silas Miller’s courage had nearly failed 
him, his faith was shaking, but he had with- 
stood the test. It had made him less ar- 
rogant, more sympathetic, more patient with 
others that had failed, and had not the cour- 
age to go on, more considerate of the less 
fortunate. In fact, this calamity was a hid- 
den blessing. 

Some months later, we see him preparing* 
lor the sale that made for him the name that 


THE RESENTMENT 


141 


he bore forever afterwards, “The Hog King 
of the States/’ 




* 



















% 




CHAPTER X. 

TWO GREAT EVENTS 

It was a beautiful day on the twentieth 
of June, the sun was peeping behind the 
Eastern horizon. Already many vehicles 
were coining in from every direction over 
the different country roads. If one could 
ask where they were going, they would be 
told that they were going to the wonderful 
sale at Miller’s. For weeks, hundreds of 
persons, especially farmers, had looked for- 
ward to this day. It had been extensively 
advertised in every paper and magazine 
throughout the country. Already, hundreds 
of letters had arrived. The work was heavy, 
Silas and his hired men were kept busy. 
*T do not know what I shall do,” said Silas 
to a friend, “I must get a girl more capable 
to take full charge of the heavy mail orders.” 
He had kept up a continuous correspondence 
with Margaret and wrote and asked her if 
her parents could arrange to let her come 
down for a week to help him superintend the 
work in the office during the week of the 
sale. “You see. I am just now accepting- 


144 


THE RESENTMENT 


the offer of assistance you made me. some 
time ago. Your help to me at this time will 
be invaluable. My father and mother will 
do all they can to make it pleasant for you. 
If you cannot come, I shall suffer a great 
loss through mail orders.” 

When Margaret read this letter, and had 
gotten the consent of her parents to go, no 
one knew it, but it was the happiest moment 
of her life. Silas Miller was the prince of 
her heart. A few days later, Margaret 
Kempt, sat in .Silas Miller's office, and work- 
ed with lightning speed on the typewriter. 
Everyone marveled at the rapidity of speed 
she possessed. Letter after letter was read 
and answered. She placed everything in or- 
der, making it easier for the men to get the 
orders filled. She had done business for her 
father but nothing like this. She was pleas- 
ed when Silas praised her at the end of a 
day. He told her that she had done more 
work in one day than they had been able to 
get out in a week. They stopped work at 
five o’clock each day, then went for a little 
recreation; Silas was teaching her to ride 
horseback, and there was nothing Margaret 
liked better than to ride along the country 
road and watch the beautiful Southern sun- 
set. 


THE RESENTMENT 


145 


All was in readiness ; the farm was a pic- 
turesque place : all over the fields were pens 
and stalls with the names of the different 
breeds of hogs that were enclosed. 

Never in all of his life was Silas so ex- 
cited; he had spent hundreds of dollars in 
advertisements and improvements to make 
this a great day. Long before ten o’clock 
he had taken in more money and sold more 
hogs than he had during his entire years of 
business. By noon that day, more than five 
thousand persons had visited the farm. 
When they stopped at five o’clock, every hog 
had been sold, and every order filled. The 
farmers who lived in that Aucinity said they 
had never seen such a sale ; and every thing 
so well arranged. There was no auction; 
e\rervthing Avas sold in lots and pairs at set 
prices. 

Mr. Baxter shook his head at some of the 
farmers and said, “Ain’t Miller coming, 
though? Yes, I tell you, in another year 
or so, he will be a wealthy man.” 

During the entire day many comments 
were heard amongst the white farmers. 
Some wanted to know how he got his start; 
others marveled at the excellent business 
way in which he had arranged his sale, and 
still others doubted that he was doing busi- 


146 


THE RESENTMENT 


ness for himself. 

Mr. Baxter was proud to say that Silas 
worked for him when a boy, always adding, 
“And a finer boy, I never saw.” 

A few days later, Silas was astonished to 
get a letter from Mr. Walker; it was a letter 
full of praise and encouragement. He told 
Silas of having seen the advertisement in 
his home paper, and he also said Mr. Baxter 
had told him of the great sale he had had. 
“I am as proud as you are, Silas,” he said; 
and ended by saying, “Now, Silas, I am going 
to give you the advice I have given to hun- 
dreds of my young men — you have gotten a 
start ; get married while you are young. Do 
not wait until you are old, or until you have 
accumulated more wealth; but now, while 
you are young and can become adapted to 
each other's ways : then bring into the world 
strong, healthy children. I have only one, 
but she is more precious to me than the mil- 
lions of dollars I have made.” 

After reading this letter, Silas thought for 
a while. It was indeed true that success 
seemed his; each year he grew more pros- 
perous; yet, there seemed to be something 
amiss. He had met many girls, but tthe 
great character of Love had lain — undis- 
turbed. 


THE RESENTMENT 


147 


That afternoon, as Margaret and Silas 
went for their daily ride, he told her of his 
plans to buy a larger place — it contained 
nearly twelve hundred acres. Margaret 
listened attentively; she was always inter- 
ested in anything that Silas said or did. “I 
am going to let father and mother have the 
place where we are now,” said Silas. “Shall 
we drive around to see the new place ?” “O, 

yes,” answered Margaret, clapping her 
hands in childish glee. 

It was a beautiful tract of land, situated 
upon a hill that sloped down toward the main 
road. Silas pointed out the different im- 
provements that could be made to beautify 
the place. Beyond the orchard, in back of 
the house, a beautiful stream meandered 
through one side of the farm to a small 
creek at the edge of a pine forest. Margar- 
et stood looking. 

“Isn’t it beautiful?” she exclaimed. 

“Do you really like it, Margaret?” 

“Oh, I think it is just grand, and just think, 
Silas, you have made enough money to buy 
it.” 

“And pay cash for it, too, Margaret,” con- 
tinued Silas. 

Her large, dark eyes shone with happiness 
as she said, “I am so glad you have made 


148 


THE RESENTMENT 


good, I am we are all so proud of yon, 

Silas.” 

“Are you, Margaret?” he said, looking at 
her with his deep, frank eyes. “If you are,, 
will you share it with me, Margaret? You 
were a real friend to me when I was a lone- 
ly, shabby, country boy; you took me to 
church with you that Easter Sunday morn- 
ing when no other living soul would dare to. 
That day you became one of the dearest 
friends that I had, and now, when I called 
upon you to come and help me, you came. 
Who could have filled your place? If you 
did so much to make me happy then, I know 
that your faithfulness need not be ques- 
tioned, now. I did not know until you came 
last week that I really loved you, Margaret ; 
it is sometime hard to differentiate between 
love and friendship. In my case, it is both. 
I know no other woman I would want for a 
wife and the mother of my children. I am 
not offering you wealth or position; you have 
both. But come and share what you have 
helped me to make.” 

Margaret had learned to love Silas, but 
she dared not hope this. We do not know 
just what Margaret answered, but, when 
they returned to the house, she was Silas. 
Miller’s promised wife. 


THE RESENTMENT 


149 


At the end of the week, when Margaret 
left for home, Silas told her to tell her par- 
ents that he was coming to them again for 
advice. 

Nett and her classmates were preparing 
for Commencement on the twenty-eighth of 
June. It had been three years of hard work. 
Soon, they were to say good-bye to the Hos- 
pital where they had learned, by theory and 
fact, the science of Nursing. 

In these years, many of the girls learned 
that nursing was one of the greatest pro- 
fessions that any woman could follow. 

To look down upon a sick person and be 
able to know what to give or to do to relieve 
suffering, was, to Nett, a wonderful knowl- 
edge. 

Others who had chosen this course to 
please some parent or guardian or to keep 
from working in the kitchen had been firmly 
convinced that it was a stepping-stone from 
hard work to harder work. Yet, as Com- 
mencement day drew nearer, they all looked 
forward to it with much pride. Nett was 
as happy and gay as any, but a little quiet 
and more reserved. She had worked hard 
and had hoped to receive class honors, but 
she knew that any girl who had been de- 
mented or punished could not have such dis- 


150 


THE RESENTMENT 


tinction conferred upon her. She seemed to 
feel this keener as the time for graduation 
drew near. Several prominent speakers had 
been chosen for the evening. Miss Dunn 
was Valedictorian of the class. Nett was 
much surprised when Miss Wolf asked her 
to prepare a short talk on “The Duties of a 
Nurse.” She explained to Nett that the girl 
assigned that part seemed too nervous to 
face the audience. Nett was delighted to 
substitute and went to work to prepare the 
essay. 

Silas had sent her a check and a long letter 
telling her how proud they all were. He 
told her that he could not attend the Grad- 
uating exercise, but would be in the city on 
the first of the month. “I want to take you 
to see Margaret Kempt, my promised wife !” 
He also told her how Margaret had come 
and helped him during the week of the sale. 
“She is the second most unselfish girl that 
I have ever known; you are the fust, Nett. 
I cannot wait until you are dead, I must give 
you the roses now. You are the dearest 
little sister that a brother could have!” 

As she read this letter her heart burned 
with joy, to know that her brother had not 
forgotten the efforts she had made to help 
him. 


THE RESENTMENT 


151 


At eight-thirty o'clock, on the evening of 
the twenty-eighth day of June, fourteen 
girls — dressed in white, representing the em- 
blem of purity — marched on to the platform 
to the strains of the orchestra's music. 

The overcrowded assembly room greeted 
them with a series of loud applause. One 
girl thought that she had not a relative or 
friend present ; she did not know that in that 
audience a young girl looked anxiously into 
the face of every graduate. At last, she 
turned to an elderly lady and gentelman sit- 
ting beside her and said, “O, mother, and 
look, father, that is Nett: just like Silas, 
isn't she?" 

“Yes, there can be no mistake, she bears 
a striking resemblance to Silas!" said her 
father. 

“Isn't she a dear? What a fine, composed 
face; one can see the goodness shining 
through her eyes!" said Mrs. Kempt. 

The girls were seated. Speaker after 
speaker paid worthy tribute to the young 
women who had prepared themselves to min- 
ister to suffering humanity. The house 
rang again and again with applause through- 
out the entire program. 

Upon the platform with the other speak- 
ers a young man sat, buried deep in thoguht. 


152 


THE RESENTMENT 


He seemed to pay little or no attention to 
what was being said by the other speakers. 
He looked now and then at the girls. His 
eyes seemed to rest long upon Nett; then 
he seemed to come to a decided conclusion. 
At last, the master of ceremonies introduced 
him to the audience as the last speaker of 
the evening, and as being one who had serv- 
ed in the same hospital. He had seen every 
girl at her best and knew the character and 
disposition of each. 

Dr. Lionel walked slowly to the centre of 
the platform; his deep, clear, concise voice 
soon gave him the full attention of the en- 
tire audience. He talked from the subject, 
“Working Through !” He emphasized the 
value of a good nurse. Every few minutes 
the audience broke forth into thunderous 
applause ; then he said, “I have a story to tell 
of a nurse in a certain hospital. One day 
one of the strictest rules of the hospital was 
broken by some of the nurses ; no one would 
admit the deed but the blame was placed 
upon one — for what purpose it was not gen- 
erally known. The accused girl frankly ad- 
mitted that she did not commit the act 
charged against her, but said she could take 
the punishment and thereby save the girl 
who would not admit hre own guilt. 


THE RESENTMENT 


153 


'‘That nurse had to do double duty for the 
Avhole week. During the first night, one of 
the doctors went purposely to see how she 
was accepting the unjust punishment. In- 
stead of finding her sulking and pouting on 
duty, as he had suspected, he found her 
cheerfully working amongst the patients — 
surrounded by a halo that hardly belonged 
to an earthly being. She had forgotten that 
she was being punished for another’s deed. 
The doctor knew who had done the deed and 
why the blame was put on this certain 
nurse.” Dr. Lionel again referred to the 
work and then said, "The doctor will never 
forget that nurse and that noble act.” 

The audience sat spell-bound during the 
recital; one could have heard the slightest 
whisper; each individual seemed to be try- 
ing to grasp each word as they came from 
the lips of the speaker. Dr. Lionel came to 
a conclusion by saying, "She who can do 
this has already fitted herself for this great 
work, and — and” — his strong voice quivered 
— "I am proud to say that that girl stands 
here amongst these fourteen, to-night; by 
name — Miss Nett Mliler!” Then he fairly 
pushed Nett to the middle of the platform. 

Did the audience hear aright ? There was 
silence; then there rose such an applause 


154 


THE RESENTMENT 


that nearly sent the roof from the building. 
Many stood to get a glimpse of the little 
woman. 

Nett could barely restrain the tears from 
falling as she delivered her essay, which was 
short and simple, but very impressive. 

As she was leaving the assembly hall, Lucy 
Dunn came to her and said, “Nett Miller, 
can you ever forgive me? I did not mean to 
let you bear the blame and take the punish- 
ment for my wrong-doing; but, when we 
were discussing whom to tell, or what to 
say about the matter, one of the girls said, 
‘You should worry; say that little, pumpkin- 
head greenhorn from the country did it; 
they will not punish her half as hard as one 
of us who is not so pious as she. You know 
they’re all daffy about her; but what they 
see in her, heaven only knows.’ Thinking 
they were only joking, I said ‘all right,’ but 
did not think for once that the girl was go- 
ing to say you did it when the Superinten- 
dent asked about it the following morning; 
and I was such a coward that I would not 
even own it after your emphatic denial. 
Each day I thought to confess, but as time 
passed, it grew hard to broach the subject; 
so I let it remain as it was; but, Nett, I have 
suffered more than you have. No punish- 


THE RESENTMENT 


155 


ment they could have given me would have 
brought so many tears and such heartaches 
as did your noble act : and not a harsh word 
to any of us did you say. I am so sorry that 
I have been so narrow-minded; I do not ask 
you to forget it, that you cannot do, but 
can you forgive me?” 

Nett put her arms around her and 'said, 
“Dear Lucy, I can both forgive and forget; 
don’t think of it, life is too short to worry 
over the past. Sometimes such things are 
good for us all; one heart has been tested; 
anuother purged. That little incident, I’m 
sure, will make you more careful in the fu- 
ture. Lucy, we are soon to leave this hospi- 
tal; maybe, forever- -where we have studied 
and worked together for three years. Our 
paths may lead through different avenues, 
but we may meet again; let us part true 
friends.” 

“But, Nett, everyone will hate me.” 

“No, Lucy, remember Dr. Lionel did not 
call any names: he did not even tell who it 
was. You can be sure he will not say any 
more than he has already said.” 

The two girls shook hands and parted. 

Nett had been so busy talking and receiv- 
ing congratulations that she had not stopped 


156 


THE RESENTMENT 


to look at the several presents that she had 
received : From Mr. and Mrs. Kempt, a leath- 
er medicine case; a bouquet of flowers from 
Margaret; and a medical thermometer from 
Dr. Lionel. Nett was overjoyed. “Just 
thinkn, these from Mr. and Mrs. Kempt and 
Margaret, friends whom I have never seen; 
and so thoughtful of Dr. Lionel to have re- 
membered me with so useful a gift.” 

Nett Miller left the assembly that even- 
ing with part of her ambition obtained — a 
graduated nurse, with her diploma, to start 
a few days hence in the broad field of her 
calling amongst the sick and suffering. 

Nett had sent several invitations to the 
folks at home; as none could attend the ex- 
ercises, Silas mailed them to Margaret and 
her parents, asking them to go to the grad- 
uation of they possibly could. Margaret 
had talked her parents “deaf, dumb and 
blind” as they expressed it, until they con- 
sented to accompany her. 

Silas came to the city on the first day of 
July. He was glad to see his sister; she was 
so happy, but a little tired. In showing him 
the beautiful present that Mr. and Mrs. 
Kemtp had given her, she said, “I could not 
imagine from whom they came until I saw 
the name; I was in ecstacy when I saw that 


THE RESENTMENT 


157 


vour friends had remembered me!” 

“Yes, Nett, I have made few friends in 
life, but good ones.” 

They had luncheon together; then he took 
her to meet the Kempts. It was a joyous 
meeting; Margaret had heard of Nett, and 
Nett of Margaret, until they felt that they 
had known each other for years. There 
seemed to be no disappointment in the meet- 
ing. Nett felt herself at home in the pala- 
tial home of the Kempts. They invited her 
to stay a week with them. 

The day had been hot and sultry; dur- 
ing the evening, Mr. Kempt suggested that 
the girls go for ice cream. 

Silas took advantage of their absence to 
tell Mr. and Mrs. Kempt the purpose of his 
visit. “Mr. Kempt, a few years ago I came 
to you for advice; you gave it to me; I fol- 
lowed it and benefited by it. To-day I have 
come to you again for advice.” 

“Well, Silas, what is it? Whatever it is, 
I shall do my best to assist you in whatever 
way I can.” 

“I have come to ask your advice and con- 
sent in marrying your daughter.” 

Mr. Kempt was silent ; he was not sur- 
prised, for he had seen for some time that 
there was something more binding than a 


158 


THE RESENTMENT 


mere friendship between Margaret and Si- 
las. He turned to his wife and said, “Moth- 
er?” 

“For our Margaret ?” she queried. 

“Yes, Mrs. Kempt, I know that she is your 
all and it will be hard for you to part with 
her, but it will be harder for me to live with- 
out her ; I promise nothing, but let me prove 
to you what I shall be. I am not offering 
her money or position, but a life that I am 
not ashamed of.” 

His last statement went directly to the 
hearts of the elderly couple. Mr. Kempt 
said, “Silas, I could not say what you have 
said when I asked permission to marry my 
wife. The life you have lived makes you 
eligible to marry any good woman. Our 
men of to-day do not thing of preparing 
themselves to become good husbands and 
fathers; but live a life so full of vice and so 
corrupt until, at the earliest marriageable 
age they can only offer a girl a sickly, weak, 
diseased body. We shall hate to part with 
her, but are proud to know that the man 
whom she has chosen is a good man. We 
only hope that she will prove to be a true 
wife and a good mother.” 

Mrs. Kempt gave her consent. Like all 
mothers, she did not say much. To her, 


THE RESENTMENT 


159 


Margaret still seemed only a baby. 

When the girls returned, Mr. Kempt kiss- 
ed his daughter and told her that they had 
given their consent for her to marry the best 
man alive. “I know you think so, don’t 
you, dear?” he asked, patting her on the 
head. 

“Margaret, do you wish to leave father 
and me?” asked her mother a little sadly. 

“Yes, mother, I love you and father dear- 
ly, but there is something that makes me 
lv want to leave you for this man; I don’t 
know what it is, but it is something.” 

“Yes. dear; we understand,” said her fa- 
ther, “don’t we, mother?” 

Mr. Kempt was not like most parents who 
think it a disgrace to own that they ever 
were in love, or still loved each other. 

“Nett, you must come and be our daugh- 
er; you know we shall be very lonely when 
Margaret leaves us.” 

“Dear Mrs. Kempt, I shall come as often 
as it is possible ; I shall begin my work soon 
and will not have much time for visiting or 
pleasure, but I thank you so much for your 
kindness, said Nett. 

That week was a pleasant one for Nett. 
Ere she will have spent another week of such 
happiness. Nett Miller will have paid the 


160 


THE RESENTMENT 


price: Angels pay to be angels. 

Margaret’s engagement was announced 
at an informal dinner given by her parents. 
News spread far and Avide. In every home 
of the social set the coming marriage of 
Margaret Kempt to Silas Miller, the young 
Southern farmer, was much discussed. Few 
of Margaret’s friends had met Silas and 
knew little or nothing about him. 

Mrs. Crumpton, one of the leading ma- 
trons of the four-hundred set, said, “I can- 
not see where Attorney Kempt’s senses are 
to marry his daughter off to such a person. 
Of course no one would dare broach the 
.subject to him; he would explode like a 
keg of gunpowder.” 

“No,” said Mrs. Townsend, “when Henry 
Kempt, sets his mind on anything and thinks 
that thing is right, there is no turning him 
around. I suppose the man is some fortune 
hunter, marrying Margaret for her money 
and she is so heels-over-head in love Avith 
him that she can’t see it.” 

“Well, I do hope she’ll keep him in the 
country and not bring him up North and 
try to push him into our set.” 

“That’s one thing I must say about the 
Kempts; they don’t do any pushing; every- 
body I knoAv is too glad to have them for 


THE RESENTMENT 


161 


associates, and, if there is any pushing done, 
the other party generally does it,” said Mrs. 
Townsend, conclusively. 

When Aunt Mollie Noble heard of Silas' 
engagement she sat down and folded her 
arms and said, “Dar now; what did I tell 
you sis Mariah? Gone clean up to the city 
to marry somebody — 'taint none ob de gals 
'roun' heah good 'nuf fo' him. Done made 
a little money now, an’ his head is dat swell 
dat he mus’ marry some city ’oman; well, 
who eber she is, if she comes from de city, 
'twont take her long to help him spend it.” 

“Yo' sure don said a mouf full, now Aunt 
Mollie; and besides, dey say it is dat girl 
dat he had come down heah to help him 
during the wek ob dat big sale dey hab 
hyeah.” 

Aunt Mollie stood up; kimbowing her- 
self, said, “Yo' doan mean to tell me dat 
Silas Miller is goin’ to marry dat little stop- 
plin' of a peanut?” 

“Dat's jes' what I hears, Aunt Mollie." 

“Well, sah, I'se nevah heard of sich a 
foolish thing in all my life; why Sis Mariah* 
she's dat brazen, an' I seed her wid mah 
own eyes ridin’ horseback 'roun' here 'strad- 
dle, jes' lak a man; an' when I speaks to 
brother Miller about it, he says, dat's de 


162 


THE RESENTMENT 


way dev rides in de city. Sez I, 'it may be 
city style, but it ain’t no way fo’ no decent 
’oman to ride.’ An’ she’s dat little dat she 
won’t be able to lif’ a pot from de stove.. 
Who do yo s’pose do all de cookin’ fo’ de 
hands? Guess he’ll be dunce ’nuf to try to 
do it hisself.” 

“No, dev say he’s goin’ to hire a cook.” 

“Hursh, Sis’ Mariah. I done heard so much 
foolishness dat I’ll had de heart trubble de 
res’ ob dis week. Jes’ t’ink ob his ma and 
pa working all dese years an’ he astrutin’ 
off to de city to marry some S’iety ’oman 
an’ den hirin’ a cook fo’ her.” 

“I am a little ’fraid dat he will fin’ dat she 
is not much fitted fo’ dis life; de only t’ing, 
we’ll wait an’ see how she gets along,” said 
Sis’ Mariah. 

“I s’pose he ea’culates on us po’ ole work- 
in’ folks turnin’ out an’ helpin’ her to cook 
an’ keep house; but I fo’ one, don’t tend to 
move one step from dis hyear shanty, cayse 
ain’t nobody goin’ t’ hire us any cooks when 
we gits too ole to work,” assured Aunt Mol- 
lie. 

“As I ’foresaid, Aunt Mollie, let us wait 
an’ see how she gits along.” 


THE RESENTMENT 


163 


THE WEDDING 

On the twenty-fourth day of October, 
two persons awoke to remember it was their 
wedding day. It was a typical autumn day; 
Tack Frost had made his appearance a few 
nights before, making the air keen and crisp; 
the leaves were falling and everywhere Na- 
ture seemed to be unrobing herself for the 
coming winter. 

In a beautiful home in a northern city, a 
young girl lay restlessly counting the pass- 
ing hours; she had slept but little during 
the night and, at the first peep of dawn, she 
awoke and went to the room of her parents 
— tapping lightly on the door, at the same 
time asking if they were awake. “No, dear, 
you awoke us, come in.” 

“Have you been up all night?” 

“No, papa, but I didn’t sleep much.” 

“I didn’t either, a certain night about 
thirty years ago, but nothing disturbs me 
now,” said Mr. Kempt laughingly. 

“And mother, are you awake, too?” she 
asked. 

“Yes, dear.” 

Neither the father nor the daughter knew 
that during the entire night the mother had 
secretly wiped the tears away, as the 


164 


THE RESENTMENT 


thought dawned upon her that, before an- 
other sunrise, her daughter would belong 
to another. 

In the South, on the farm, a father walked 
nervously up and down the yard. He re- 
peatedly asked his son, “Are you sure, Si, 
that Margaret will be contented to live here? 
You know that a week’s visit in the country 
is far different from a life-time stay. I am 
afraid that she will soon tire of this dull, 
monotonous country life.” Silas reassured 
his father not to worry;, he told him that if 
Margaret had consented to come, she will 
have made up her mind to accept things as 
they were. “She is the kind that can read- 
ily adapt herself to anything — provided that 
thing is right.” 

A few hours later Silas left for the city 
on the early train. He recalled his first trip 
to Philadelphia — how differently! Then, a 
poor, penniless boy, with only hope and 
ambition before him ; today, a man of con- 
siderable wealth, with some of those hopes 
realized and new ones formulating. 

Whe he changed trains and 'boarded a 
north-bound express, several white persons 
recognized him and said to their friends who 
sat with them, “That’s Miller.” “Yes, I see 
it is ; a fine-looking fellow, and they say he’s 


THE RESENTMENT 


165 


getting* rich qpick.” “Well, I don't know 
-about the quickness, but if he keeps on at 
the rate he is going, there will not be a 
white man in the State richer than he." 

“Who is Miller, papa?" asked a little boy 
sitting beside his father, who was one of the 
men of the group.. “He is the little colored 
boy you have often heard Mr. Baxter speak 
of and tell how he worked his way from a 
penniless boy to a prosperous business 
man." 

While they talked. Silas was thinking of 
the future, and what it would mean to him. 
If it will onh be as well as the past, I shall 
not complain," he soliloquized. 

About six o'clock that evening a number 
of their intimate friends gathered in the 
parlor of Attorney and Mrs. Kempt to wit - 
ness the marriage of their daughter. 

Much comment could be heard while the 
guests waited anxiously for the hour. As 
the clock was striking six, the bridal party 
marched in the drawing room; and when 
Silas Miller entered, accompanied by the 
best man, who was a cousin of the bride, 
not another word was heard. Everyone gaz- 
ed with astonished admiration at the tall, 
erect figure of the well-groomed and com- 
posed-looking young man. Many of the 


166 


THE RESENTMENT 


girls who sat there would willingly have 
taken Margaret's place, and they were not 
too selfish to tell her so. 

Thus two girls changed places : Margaret 
Kempt, a city-bred girl, left behind her the 
fascinating scenes of a large city for the 
quiet life of the country; and Nett Miller 
gave up the fields, the flowers, the song 
birds, and the rural social life to work for 
suffering humanity in the hot, dusty, noisy 
city. 

News was spread that Silas would return 
Saturday evening and would visit the church 
the following morning with his bride. Many 
invitations had been issued, asking all the 
neighboring friends to a housewarming par- 
ty, Wednesday evening. 

When Aunt Mollie got her invitation to* 
the affair she took it to the home of a neigh- 
bor to see what it contained. 

“A hous' warmin' pahty!" she exclaimed. 
“I'se nevah hyeahed of sich befo' in mah life, 
an' Ah am nigh on to de sixties. Ah tells 
yo’, Ida, des' hyeah young peepl' don't know 
what to git at; a 'vitin' company to warm 
up de hous ! Now, when we got married, 
we jes' put up a stove an' put some wood in 
thar. When de stove got hot, it hetted up 
de hous' an’ de only envitation youse got 


THE RESENTMENT 


167 


war to wahm up on de wood pile by heppin’ 
to cut up some ob de wood. Yes’m, dats de 
truth, dis is funny notions dey is got.” 

“Ain’t you goin’ Aunt Mollie?” as'ked 
Miss Long. 

“Yo’ bet I doan miss it,” she said. 

Sunday morning, Aunt Mollie got up 
-early. She almost forgot to feed the chic- 
kens and had to go back to get her snuff 
box and see if she had locked the door after 
she had started for church. 

By hurrying so fast, she was almost 
breathless when she reached the church. 
Seeing* Sister Maria Dudley she leaned over 
the pew and asked, “Has dey come yet?” 

“Has who come. Aunt Mollie?” 

“De bride an’ groom. An’ did yo’ git an 
envitation to de pahty?” 

“Yes, I did git some kind of letter, but I 
didn’t jes’ un’erstan’ what it meant.” 

“An’ nobody else. Ah guess its jest some 
ob dese hveah high flutin’ notions dat dese 
city folks am got, an’ a waste of lots ob 
money; but, ah gess ah’ll go jest de same to 
see what it is lak. Ain’t yo’ goin,’ Sis 
Mariah?” 

“Yes, I t’ink all is goin’ dat got envited.” 

The minister had just finished reading 
the Scripture, and the choir was singing 


168 


THE RESENTMENT 


when Silas entered with his bride. There* 
was a general “Um-m” throughout the con- 
gregation. 

Aunt Mollie never knew what was said 
or done after she found that they had ar- 
rived. Touching Sis Maria lightly on the 
shoulder, she whispered, “She looks mighty 
puny to me, an’ I declar’ she ain’t much 
bigger den a kildee. I ’spec’ he’ll wish mo’ 
den once dat he had married some good,, 
strong, country-fed gal,” 

“Now, don’t over-ca’culate de t’ing, Aunt 
Mollie; I t’ink she’ll be all right when she’s 
hyeah a while,” said Sis’ Maria. 

“Maybe so, but thars no telling.” 

After the service, Silas introduced Mar- 
garet to all, and in spite of all that she had 
said. Aunt Mollie said afterward, “A sweet- 
er little o’man Ah hab neveh met in all ob 
mah life.” 

At the party, Margaret won many friends, 
and ere she had been in that community 
long she was beloved by all. This made 
Silas proud of the woman he had chosen for 
a wife. 

Mr. Miller said, “I have never seen such 
a girl : a splendid housekeeper, and a good 
manager. I do not think that Silas could 
have found a better girl even if she had been 


THE RESENTMENT 


169 


reared in the country.” 

While Silas prospered each year, he did 
not forget the humble folks with whom he 
was reared ; both he and Margaret took ac- 
tive part in all the events for social uplift 
and beneficial affairs. The people soon 
found that Margaret was more proficient in 
dealing with the problems that concerned 
the welfare of the community than they, and 
willingly gave these matters into her hands. 
Margaret soon grew to love these quaint 
and humble folks and they in return re- 
spected and honored her. 

Silas was elected president of a club for 
young men; and through his efforts many 
received help to start in business. He nev- 
er forgot his boyhood days. 

In this new life, his happiness was inex- 
pressible. With Margaret, his first and only 
love, and his home. Nothing he enjoyed 
now as much as the quiet evenings with her 
by his side. 

TEN YEARS LATER 

Ten years has passed, Silas Miller is now 
said to be the wealthiest colored man in the 
State, and is reputed to be worth almost a 


170 


THE RESENTMENT 


million dollars. His name has reached 
every State in the Union and foreign papers 
refer to him as the Hog King of the States. 

During this time, four sons had been born 
to this union. It seemed that God had al- 
most granted Margaret her wish. Never 
was there a more faithful wife nor a better 
mother. Both Silas and Margaret loved 
these sturdy little fellows, but, of course, 
they were left a great deal with their mother 
— Silas being busy most of the time. 

One day when little Kempt was coaxing 
him to play ball. Silas said in a very impa- 
tient tone, “Don’t worry father, I am busy. 
Go play with your brothers,” pushing the 
little fellow almost roughly aside. Margar- 
et had seen the incident from a window that 
overlooked the broad lawn; her heart almost 
sank within her when she heard the child 
say to his brother. “Papa’£ so mean, I almost 
hate him.” 

“This will never do ; I must speak to Silas 
about that to-night,” said Margaret to her- 
self. 

That night when the children were fast 
asleep, Margaret and Silas were sitting to- 
gether in the library; she said, “Silas, dear 
little Kempt was very much hurt when you 
would not play ball with him this afternoon. 


THE RESENTMENT 


171 


“But, Margaret, you don't know how much 
I have to do and think about ; I have no time 
to be bothered playing ball. Why can't 
they play together ? I give them everything 
that youngsters need to make them happy. 
I am planning to buy Kempt a pony and 
cart for his birthday ; I am willing to give 
them anything that money can buy." 

‘‘And withhold from them the thing that 
they crave most," said Margaret more re- 
provingly than he had ever heard her speak. 

“Margaret, you talk so foolish; what on 
earth do I keep from them?" 

“A father's love." 

Silas looked astonished. “Oh, Margaret, 
how can you say that?" 

“It is hard, Silas, but it is true; I heard 
little Kempt say to-day that you were mean 
and he hated you. Silas, I would die if our 
children grew to dislike you — the only man 
in the world to me. The child wanted you 
to play ball with him; you are always too 
busy. You love them, I know, but if you do 
not devote a little time to amuse them, the 
children and you will grow up as strangers; 
they are too young to understand 1 did 
not awaken to this fact myself, until I heard 
Kempt's remark to-day." 

Silas sat listening — ashen and pale — un- 


172 


THE RESENTMENT 


shed tears stood in his eyes. 

“Oh, Margaret !” 

“Yes, God has given them to us ; they are 
what we wished and hoped for. But if you 
thrust them aside now to make money and 
lose their love, what joy will you get out of 
it? If you want their love and respect when 
they are grown men, and you and I are old, 
give them a little of your time during their 
play hours; this is a child’s idea of love. It 
wiil be worth more than the million that you 
have made, or the millions that }^ou may 
make.” 

Silas went over to Margaret ; putting his 
arms around her, he said, “Mother, you are 
righth; don’t let me make, such a blunder; 
what would I ever do without you? You 
have always been mv guiding star.” He 
fondled and kissed her. She smiled happily. 

After that Silas devoted a few hours each 
day to his children. He was amazed to see 
how differently they regarded him; they al- 
ways looked forward to the hours when 
“papa” would play with them. Silas began 
to feel a closer tie than ever before. He 
realized that they had almost been strang- 
ers. One day. after their usual romp, little 
Kempt came into the house for some cook- 
ies. “And some for papa, too, mother,” he 


THE RESENTMENT 


173 

said, dancing around in a great hurrv. 

“Why are you in such a hurry? What 
have you been doing, you are so warm from 
running?” 

“We have been playing Tiger' with papa 
and, O, mother, the fun ! Papa is just great, 
isn't he, mother? / Come on and watch us,” 
With this invitation, he raced out of the 
kitchen as fast as his little legs could carry 
him. 

It made the mother very happy to see the 
children and their father playing together 
and she said, “Thank God. the gulf was 
bridged before it was too late.'' 




























/ 



CHAPTER XL 


LET ME BUILD MY HOUSE BY THE 
SIDE OF THE ROAD AND BE A 
FRIEND TO MAN 

During tlies intervening years Nett work- 
ed in the hospital. After four years of 
faithful work she was promoted to the of- 
fice of Superintendent. In this position she 
was loved and esteemed by all. She had 
seen so much suffering that she often won- 
dered if the Heavenly Father was really 
merciful. She held the position of Super- 
intendent for two years, then came time 
for her to go out into wider fields. 

One day there was a meeting of the doc- 
tors at the hospital in reference to securing 
nurses for community and slum district 
work. A few days later, all of the nurses 
were summoned to meet in the assembly 
hall and the proposition was placed before 
them. 

Calling the meeting to order the speaker 
addressed them, saying. “Dear friends, we 
are gathered here for a very important pur- 


176 


THE RESENTMENT 


pose; that purpose is to secure two efficient, 
trained nurses from this hospital to work 
amongst the poor, unfortunate class of our 
people in this city. You realize with us the 
extent of the influx of our people to this city 
yearly; they live here in congested districts 
under the most unsanitary conditions and 
not being used to this life, many have become 
ill and are dying for the want of good atten- 
tion. We doctors do our best, but the chief 
want among them is god ursing. We all 
have at some time or other, migrated here 
from different parts; if we didn't our par- 
ents did. If we let these poor people go un- 
noticed and in want, whom shall they look 
to for succor? Not to the white people, by 
no means : they have their own poor to help, 
and we must help ours. We want nurses 
to volunteer to help. Of course, it must be 
understood that this club is securing these 
nurses and shall not be able to pay them the 
full fee. We can only promise twelve dol- 
lars per week, and whatever some of the peo- 
ple are able to pay. It must be a sacrifice 
on the part of the ones who volunteer." 

The speaker, Dr. Waftner, talked a few 
minutes longer. He told of how he had giv- 
en his services to many of them, free of 
charge ; then he asked if there were two who 


THE RESENTMENT 


177 


j 

would volunteer to go. 

There was silence, then Nurse Miller arose 
and A^olunteered her services by saying, “I 
will go.” Miss Dunn also volunteered. 

The entire staff objected to Nett resigning 
her position to work in the charity field. 

“It is a broad field ; they need me, and may- 
be I need them,” she said in reply to many 
protests. 

There was one who would have said much 
rather than see this young woman, of whom 
he had grown so fond, leave the position 
which she so worthily filled to go to work 
in the slum district. But when he heard 
her say “They need me,” it filled his heart 
to know that she was so unselfish; and he 
knew it would make him seem almost in- 
human in her sight if he openly objected. 

After resigning her position, Nett rented 
a small room with a quiet, respectable fam- 
ily. Within these walls and at her work 
she spent a greater part of ten years. She 
worked unceasingly in and out amongst the 
poorest of the poor; up and down long 
flights of dirty, ill-smelling stairs, and into 
alleys and courts where it seemed almost 
impossible for humanity to exist. 

She scrubbed floors, washed soiled bed- 
ding, cooked nourishing food, washed and 


178 


THE RESENTMENT 


dressed little, neglected children. How 
precious they all were to her! She never 
tired of her work. She taught these inno- 
cent mothers the art of cleanliness and how 
to protect their children from many minor 
diseases. Nett made herself one of them. 
She eliminated that stiff, professional ari — 
so prevalent amongst some doctors and 
nurses. 

She worked hard from early morn until 
late at night. Hopeless as it seemed at 
first, they gradually grasped the true mean- 
ing of what she tried to teach them. Her 
efforts were not fruitless; she was indeed a 
happy woman when she saw them slowly 
awakening and the rays of the sun of Thrift- 
ness began to pierce the awful gloom. 

They had learned to love her; many of 
the sick would lay and count the hours un- 
til she would return and they knew her very 
footsteps. She had made many sacrifices 
to make them comfortable and it was won- 
derful to see how these poor people would 
save a dollar here, or fifty cents there, and 
sometimes she would be surprised to be 
handed an envelope with five dollars in it 
from some husband or father, in apprecia- 
tion of her work. Nett would not hurt their 
pride by refusing to accept it. She listened 


THE RESENTMENT 


179 


to various stories of misfortune and hard- 
ship; she soothed many an aching heart and 
pillowed many a dying head on her bosom. 

While merry throngs of young people 
crowded the dance halls, theatres, parks and 
the saeshore in their respective seasons, and 
were being invited here and there to parties 
and luncheons, Nett Miller worked on — not 
that she was any less human than any of 
the other girls, but her work must be done. 

Several young men had called, but after 
a few visits they came to the conclusion that 
she was too slow. She was dumbfounded 
to be frankly told by one young man that 
"you try to be different from the other girls ; 
there was once a time when women preserv- 
ed themselves for marriage, but that day 
is passed now,” he said. Nett bowed her 
head and said, "I have my own ideas of life; 
let each one live his or her own way.” 

At first she had thought a great deal of 
this young man, but she knew that a man 
who would consider a good woman of so 
little value would not make a suitable com- 
panion for any woman. Tears came into 
her eyes as she watched him slowly descend 
the stairs. "How could a young man so 
well educated (he having graduated from 
one of the best colleges of the (country) 


180 


THE RESENTMENT 


speak so?” Then she pitied him. “No one 
has taught him; he does not know any bet- 
ter, and he is not broad-minded enough to 
know the better woman,” she said. 

Nett was called one night to the bedside 
of a very sick girl. She had just fixed the 
patient comfortably and was about to leave 
the room when she was startled to hear the 
feeble voice of the patient call her by her 
first name; she turned quickly and went 
back to the bed. 

“Nett, Nett, don’t you know me?” 

“No, I’m afraid not.” 

“Make a brighter light.” 

Nett did so and was very much astonish- 
ed to look down upon the emaciated coun- 
tenance of Anna Gould — her former class- 
mate at Hospital. 

“Anna!” she exclaimed. 

“Yes, it is Anna.” 

“What on earth are you doing here, and 
so sick?” 

“I’m dying!” 

“O, Anna!” 

“Yes, Nett, I’m dying — that is the reason 
I sent for you to-night.” 

Here spasms of coughing seized her, after 
which she was almost too weak to talk. 
Nett begged her to rest and not talk. 


THE RESENTMENT 


181 


“No, I cannot rest — there is no rest for me 
until after to-morrow.” A shadow of dis- 
tress clouded her thin face. “Close the door 
and sit down beside me and hear my story.” 

“I left the hospital disgusted with nursing. 

I would never have finished the course had 
it not been for my mother who was so anx- 
ious to see me do something besides house 
work. I was considered a beautiful girl and 
thought of nothing but dress and good times. 

To dress well, I must have money and I 
had made up my mind not to work hard for 
it. With my acclaimed beauty I was quite 
an attraction among the men. I soon real- 
ized the extent of my influence and it mat- 
tered not to me whether they were married 
or single men, as long as they spent the 
money.” Here she paused a while to get 
her breath. “I drifted from one man to an- / 
other — not men of low class, but the best 
and most successful of our men. O, the 
life that I have lived! If some of those men 
would have said one word to induce me to do 
better I would not be here to-day. Look 
at this wasted form, the pain and agony I 
am enduring — all this for a few gaudy, per- 
ishable clothes — my beauty, my youth and 
womanhood all sacrificed and they are in 
their comfortable homes around the firesides 


182 


THE RESENTMENT 


with their wives and children: I am here 
alone, forgotten and dying/’ 

She put her hands over her face as if to 
ward off a terrible scene. “And, Nett, the 
worst of all is the wrong I have done my 
mother. Thank God! She doesn’t know. 
I have lied to her; told her that I was work- 
ing at my profession and sent her money. 
Once she came here to see me ; I was asham- 
ed of her and told my acquaintances that 
she was my foster-mother. I had forgotten 
that she had washed and ironed, day and 
night, to keep me in training school and 
clothed me until I had finished, I soon hur- 
ried her back home- — telling her that I had 
other appointments and did not want her 
to be alone. To-day I long for that home 
and that mother. If she know, she would be 
the only one to forgive me; but she cannot, 
she must not know — it would kill her. 

“Take this message to other girls, Nett, 
and show them the fruits of disobedience 
and sin.” 

The tears streamed down Nett’s face as 
she listened to this sad story. She looked 
at the once beautiful face, now marred by 
sin and distorted by suffering; placing her 
hand on the damp forehead, where there al- 
ready lurked the hectic bloom of death, she 


THE RESENTMENT 


183 


said: “Anna, don’t give up — while there is 
life there is hope.” 

“No, Nett, no, not for me.” 

“Through such avenues, Anna, God has 
wrought many wonderful things.” 

Nett racked her brain to think of some- 
thing more to say to cheer the dying girl. 
She referred to many adverse conditions in 
the lives of different people who eventually 
benefited as a result of the adversity; such 
as slavery and hardship endured by the early 
Christions that Christianity might be es- 
tablished permanently. 

She ended by saying, “Anna, you are send- 
ing a greater message to our girls to-day on 
your dying bed than I could have given in 
all the years of my life. God’s works are 
so mysterious that we cannot fathom them. 
He, no doubt, has suffered you to come to 
this that thousands of other girls might 
avoid this path, and, if so, you shall not have 
died in vain.” 

“Do you really think so, Nett?” 

“Yes, dear girl, I do.” 

A quiet calm settled upon the face. “I 
feel so much better, now, but I am very 
tired — tired of this world that was once so 
wonderful to me. Let me rest.” 

Nett arranged the pillows comfortably 


184 


THE RESENTMENT 


around her and turned the light low. Anna 
slept the entire night, waking only when 
seized by a coughing spell. 

The next morning as the sun’s bright rays 
shone into the room Anna said: “Isn’t it 
beautiful? But it is the last sun that shall 
ever rise for me.” 

Towards the latter part of the afternoon 
she called Nett and told her that she had an 
endowment for five hundred dollars insur- 
ance. “I want you to see that these humble, 
but good people get one hundred dollars for 
their kindness to me. What is left over the 
expenses goes to my mother.” 

Then she asked Nett to get a little jewelry 
box out of the top chiffonier drawer. Anna 
opened the box, tqok out a beautiful dia- 
mond ring and gave it to Nett. She said, 
“I know you don’t want this, but grant my 
dying wish by accepting it.” 

Nett sighed as though pained at the 
thought of the approaching death. “Very 
well, dear, I shall keep it in memory of you, 
my classmate.” 

“And, Nett, when you hear the footsteps 
of the tens of thousands of day- toilers wend- 
ing their way homeward, how often have I 
sat at the window and watched them, tired 
and worn, but they were going home — call 


THE RESENTMENT 


185 


me ; I am going home, too ; I am so tired.” 

Ere the little nurse could call her patient, 
she had answered the call of Him who said: 
“Come unto Me, all ye that are weary and 
heavy laden and I will give you rest.” 

If Anna Gould was beautiful in life, she 
was surpassingly beautiful in death. 

Nett looked down upon the still form 
whence had flown the mysterious forces that 
had kept it astir; tears glistened upon the 
long, dark lashes that rested lightly upon 
the pale cheeks ; the lips were parted with 
a half smile, as if the sufferer were about 
to say to that unseen Visitor whose pres- 
ence it is said is a terror to all, “You are 
welcome.” 

Nett wondered with throbbing heart if 
Anna Gould could be called from that slum- 
ber would she care to come back to this 
world of sorrow and sin. Oh! no, she had 
paid the price. “The wages of sin is death.” 

Anna Gould was an only child; her father 
had died when she was but five months old, 
which left her to be reared by a loving and 
over-indulgent mother who withheld noth- 
ing from her that a poor working mother 
could give her child. She was very much 
spoiled. 

She was beautiful, fair, with long, black 


186 


THE RESENTMENT 


curly hair; and as she grew year by year she 
was considered an unusually brilliant child. 

As the years slowly advanced and Anna 
passed from childhood to womanhood her 
beauty became fatal to her. She grew vain 
and haughty. Fnding that most men were 
more readily fascinated by beauty than in- 
telligence, she coerced herself into believing 
that her beauty was all that was necessary 
to help her obtain place and position. She 
entered the nurses’ training school because 
her mother repeatedly insisted that she 
should do so. Had Mrs. Gould been able to 
have made a better introspection of her 
child’s character, she would have kept her 
nearer and possibly saved her from much 
suffering and a premature grave. 

After graduating, Anna said to her class- 
mates : “Any one who wants to work at this 
profession may do so; I have no objections 
whatever. But I, for one, resign on the 
spot. It may be all right for some country 
'Greenhorn’ (referring to Nett), who would 
be glad to get a lift from the cotton patches 
or cornfields, but not for me.” Several of 
the girls who heard the remark severely rep- 
rimanded her by saying that it was an out- 
right insult to Nett. 

“Now, girls, please don’t quarrel over such 


THE RESENTMENT 


187 


trifling remarks. As I said before, we are 
leaving soon, let us part as friends; who 
knows but we all might mete again ?” said 
Nett. 

Anna, turning scornfully away with a cold, 
haughty laugh, said, “I wonder who on earth 
will be so crazy to meet her again? I am 
sick of such a saint already.” 

“I don’t think you should speak so, Anna ; 
none of us know what we are coming to; 
we are all born, but not buried,” said Lucy. 

“What dunce doesn’t know that, please 
tell me?” snapped Anna. 

“You for one, it seems.” 

“Oh ! when did you get to be so pious, Miss 
Dunn? I see you took care to let Nett be 
punished for your doings.” 

“Yes, Anna, you told Miss Wolf that Nett 
did it and I was such a coward and so afraid 
of you that I dared not say that you lied. 
Nevertheless, I have suffered more than she 
ever did, but I am glad she knows the truth 
now.” 

“Oh, then I suppose you squealed and let 
me in,” said Anna, looking startled and 
frightened. 

“No, I took all the blame myself.” 

“I am going or I shall be a fit subject for 
the insane asylum — listening to such qua- 


188 


THE RESENTMENT 


kerism. If you ever meet me please don’t 
let on that you ever knew me. I wouldn’t 
want my set to know that I ever dabbled 
around with such old nuns.” 

“All right, Anna, be sure you won’t need 
some of us first,” answered Lucy. 

Anna kept good her word. She often met 
the girls of her class, but seldom recognized 
them. Through her beauty she had gained 
admittance to the best social circles and 
dressed and lived far above the means of a 
poor girl. 

While the other girls worked, Anna lived 
her life. She lived, dressed and associated 
with the best of people. 

At length she became ill. For some time 
she lived with the hope of getting better, 
but each week she grew worse. She went 
to doctor after doctor, but each gave her 
little hope of recovering entirely. “We can 
patch you up to last a while, but at the best, 
we can give you but little hope,” they would 
say. She was also advised to go away to 
the country or to the mountains to regain 
some of her lost strength. 

Poor Anna, with her fading beauty and 
failing health, she was soon forgotten. She 
rented a little back room from a humble, but 
good Christian family. She took most of 


THE RESENTMENT 


189 


her jewels and pawned them, and was aston- 
ished to find how expensive it was. It had 
been given to her by some of her most ar- 
dent admirers. They brought enough mon- 
en to keep her for some time. 

It was within the walls of that little room 
and in the home of those good people that 
this girl — after repeated daily meditations 
— realized the fruits of evil. It was hard for 
her to become submissive to her fate. Again 
and again she would say, “I am getting 
stronger/’ but instead she gradually grew 
weaker and weaker until at last she was too 
sick to leave her bed. 

Here on her dying bed she passed before 
the awful judgment of God. “If I had only 
worked and lived an honest life, I would be 
willing to die young, but I cannot think of 
a single good deed that I have done,” she 
said to Mrs. Hutt. 

“But, do you know that God forgives 
everything — even the blacket sin?” 

Anna could not be persuaded to accept this 
great promise of the Great Redeemer. “Do 
you believe that there is a hell worse than 
the one I am suffering? Oh! if my mother 
had warned me when I was just a babe of 
these things, I might have been better, she 
said to Mrs. Hutt, who reproved her by 


190 


THE RESENTMENT 


saying : 

“Anna, do not blame someone else., for you 
were a girl with good home training and well 
learned. You certainly must have seen 
something of the fruits of vice and sin during 
your training in the hospital. But it was 
your vanity that you let lead you into such 
a chasm.” 

“Anna did not answer for some time, then 
she said in a tone more meek than anyone 
had heard her speak, “You are right, Mrs. 
Hutt, I guess it was my own folly and haugh- 
tiness that has brought me to this.” 

After that day it was sad to see the dy- 
ing girl preparing to leave this world. For 
weeks she suffered untold agonies. It was 
just a few days before she died that she real- 
ized that the strain was too great on Mrs. 
Hutt. Anna called her and asked her to 
write a letter for her to a nurse. “Ask her 
to call and see a very sick patient at the above 
address; don’t sign any name. She will 
come ; I shall only need her for a short time.” 

Poor Anna! She could not make up her 
mind to have any of the other girls that she 
knew, neither could she pay a private nurse, 
and she knew that Nett was doing charity 
work. She thought of the many mean 


THE RESENTMENT 


191 


things she said to hurt her, but “I know if 
anyone can forgive me it is Nett Miller, 1 ” she 
said. 

During the latter part of the afternoon 
Anna heard Mrs. Hutt singing Nett’s favor- 
ite hymn — “Does Jesus Care?” How often 
had she laughed at Nett whenever she sang 
it, but to-day, that hymn seemed as a spring 
of cooling water to her sin-burned soul. 
How she listened to hear Nett’s footsteps! 
“I know she will come.” 

It was getting late and the sick girl had 
despaired of her coming that day when she 
heard the bell ring. “Yes, the same soft, 
sweet voice.” Anna recognized it at once, 
although it had been years since she had 
seen her. The door opened quietly; the lit- 
tle white-clad nurse walked in and turned 
up the light. 

“The same Nett, only her hair is graying 
and she looks a little tired, but O, so happy!” 
Nett went over the sick girl inch by inch — 
examining her thoroughly. Being sensitive 
to the slightest touch Anna felt more at ease 
during this examination than any previous 
one. Nett was so gentle! She handled her 
like a babe. 

But a fear crept over her when she saw 
that Nett did not recognize her. “Can it be 


192 


THE RESENTMENT 


possible that she still remembers what I 
said, or is it my condition? Although I 
know I said enough to hurt her, it will break 
my heart should Nett Miller fail me at this 
hour. I am dying; who would not forgive a 
dying woman !” Such were Anna's thoughts 
while Nett was examining her. After com- 
pleting the examination and fixing her com- 
fortably, Nett started to leave the room 
when Anna called her. It was then that she 
told her story. 

Dear Reader: Do not forget that we al- 
ways pay for the life we live. Do not let 
beauty bring you to Anna Gould’s fate. Re- 
member, beauty fascinates, but never holds. 

What did Anna Gould give for a few per- 
ishable clothes and foolish pleasures? Her 
youth, her health, her virtue, her woman- 
hood, a mother’s love and confidence, loyal 
friends and a noble profession. And what 
did she receive in return? Sorrow and suf- 
fering and filled, a premature grave. 


CHAPTER XIII. 


THE REWARD 

More than a year has passed since the 
death of Anna Gould; Nett had not ceased 
to work; she had seen the fruits of her la- 
bor. In all these years she had not taken 
more than a few day’s vacation at a time: 
these days she usually spent on the farm 
with Silas and Margaret. Had it not been 
for this generous brother, Nett could have 
barely existed. He had never failed to send 
her a check each month; with this she was 
always comfortable. Both Silas and Mar- 
garet had tried to induce her to give up her 
work and come and live with them, but her 
answer was always “No, I cannot give them 
up yet.” 

Even when visiting here she did not get 
rest ; her old friends were constantly calling 
or inviting her to their homes. Nothing 
they enjoyed better than recalling that after- 
noon in school when Nett made known her 
desire to become a trained nurse and an old 
maid. How they would laugh. “All of the 


194 


THE RESENTMENT 


members of that class are married but you, 
Nett,” they would say. 

“Yes, I have realized both wishes,” she 
would reply. 

“But, Nett, you are so changed,” said Mat- 
tie Reynolds (who we knew in an earlier 
chapter as Mattie King). Those eyes that 
held so much defiance in them are now so 
soft in their depths one can read sympathy 
and pity.” 

“Yes, dear girl, when you have seen as 
much suffering as I, you can feel both.” 

“And your hair is getting gray, too.” 

“You do not realize that I am getting old, 
do you?” 

“Yes, but we can only think of you as lit- 
tle Nett,” they would laughingly say. 

One day, after a hard day’s work, Nett 
felt unusually tired; her head ached dread- 
fully; as she walked home she made up her 
mind to attend a theatre that evening. St. 
Elmo was being played at one of the thea- 
tres and she wanted to see the play as she 
had read the book so often. “It will be a 
little recreation for me, I am so tired and 
lonely.” She purchased a small bouquet of 
flowers to wear with her new pale gray satin 
dress which she had bought some time be- 
fore, but had not worn. 


THE RESENTMENT 


195 


After dressing, she pinned the flowers in 
her corsage. She found that she was ready 
an hour before time to leave so she decided 
to read a while. 

She was hardly seated when there was a 
ring at the door. She heard a voice ask: “Is 
Miss Miller, the nurse, in?” 

“Yes, but I think she is going out,” said 
Mrs. Hart, the lady of the house, “but I will 
call her.” 

When Nett came down she found an anx- 
ious, worried-looking man pacing the hall. 
“Oh, nurce, will you come? My baby, my 
only child is dying; do come for God’s sake, 
don’t say ‘no’,” he said, when he saw the dis- 
appointed look on her face. 

It was the first time during her career that 
she had to decide, but it was only for a mo- 
ment. “I will come,” she said in a soft, 
sweet voice. 

“Nett went. All night long she stood by 
the bedside of the tiny, pain-racked suffer- 
er, battling against death. For hours it 
seemed that death would win. 

“The doctor will be here early in the morn- 
ing; he had just left when I came for you. 
He could give me no hope,” said the father. 

“Well, nurse, how is she?” 

Nett was surprised to look and see Dr. 


196 


THE RESENTMENT 


Lionel. “Very sick, doctor, but I feel there 
is hope.” 

Dr, Lionel left rigid .instructions. “If 
there is any hope, it remains with the nurs- 
ing.” He did not fear, for he knew Nett 
Miller would leave nothing undone. Three 
days and nights, and the crisis was passed. 

“Thank God, she will live !” said the nurse, 
as she saw the change. She had neither 
slept nor eaten ; hardly five minutes had she 
left the bedside. As Dr. Lionel entered the 
bedroom that evening, Nett said, “She lives, 
thank God, she lives ” and fainted. 

Knowing that the baby was out of danger, 
the doctor turned his entire attention to the 
nurse. She was soon revived. “I guess I 
am a little tired,” she said. 

“Nett — Miss Miller, I am going to phone 
Mrs. Kempt ; you are going there to rest and 
from there to the country — not home by no 
means, but somewhere where you can rest 
without entertaining or being entertained. 
You have done your duty — double duty,” he 
said. 

Nett lay and listneed to his orders. She 
had given orders for years, but to-day or- 
ders were being given to her. She accept- 
ed his orders and said, “Yes, doctor, I feel 
too tired to go on.” 


THE RESENTMENT 


197 


That night she was made comfortable in 
Attorney and Mrs. Kempt’s home. They 
told her that they wished she would stay 
with them all ways. 

As Dr. Lionel was leaving he said, “Re- 
member, Miss Miller, you are off duty until 
I give you orders to go back again.” Then 
he added, “I saw that night when I entered 
the sick room that you were too tired to take 
the case, but I knew nothing could convince 
you of the fact but a complete breakdown 
or something like this.” Nett marveled at 
herself for being so obedient. 

Nett did not think it unusual that Dr. 
Lionel called every day, but she looked for- 
ward to the time that he would call with an 
interest that was deeper than professional. 
When she left for the country, Dr. Lionel 
asked her to write and inform him of how 
she was improving. “I shall come to see 
you as often as is possible.” 

One day he motored out in his new road- 
ster and took Nett for a long drive through 
the country. “I am getting back to my old 
self again; I shall soon be able to go back to 
my people, don’t you think, doctor?” See- 
ing that the doctor did not answer, she con- 
tinued: “I feel better than I have for p long 


198 


THE RESENTMENT 


time, and Oh, I miss them so much.” Dr. 
Lionel saw that if he did not speak now there 
would be no hope when once Nett got back 
to work, so he told her his long story ; how 
he had waited for her to taste both the joys 
and sorrows of the course that she had so 
nobly chosen; how he had watched her give 
the love (that he had hoped some day would 
be his) to hundreds of sick, unfortunate and 
poverty-stricken people. “Ten long years 
have I worked and waited, the thought of 
you always foremost in my mind, has made 
me a good man. During my practice many 
homes have been open to me; men have 
trusted their wives and daughters into my 
care; I can truthfully say, until now, not 
once have I betrayed their trust. Not that 
I was not tempted (because men of my pro- 
fession have enough of that before them), 
but these men paid me their hard-earned 
wages; I ministered to them, still I depend- 
ed on them for my livelihood. I fought 
hard not to yield to things so low.” 

“Nett, I have loved as few men ever love; 
often I have tried to shut you out of my 
mind, but your shadow seemed ever before 
me. This great love has made me unsel- 
fish. I could not take you away from the 
work which needed you so much; you have 


THE RESENTMENT 


199 


given them ten years of your life — will you 
give me the rest?” 

Nett’s eyes filled with tears; through them 
shone unexpressible happiness, for love is 
a good woman’s idea of a great reward; no 
fame, position or wealth can bring to her 
more happiness than to be truly loved and 
honored by a good man. 

Years afterward, Nett said: “It was worth 
the trouble; the struggle, the hours of lone- 
liness, the sacrifice and the love I gave to 
them because I got so much in return — a 
good husband.” 

And Dr. Lionel said : “I wish every young- 
man could see through the eyes of virtue; I 
can never express in language its worth.” 

After their marriage, Dr. Lionel forbade 
Nett to even help him in his office, which she 
wanted so much to do. “No, dear, you must 
rest. You have worked long enough for a 
while at least.” Nett did not try to argue 
with him because she knew he was right. 

When they were married a little over a 
year a little daughter was born to them. 
The baby took much of Nett’s time, but she 
divided her love — she was too sensible to let 
the baby take her entire attention away from 
the husband and father as most young moth- 


200 


THE RESENTMENT 


ers do. Dr. Lionel said : “When I found out 
there was to be a baby, I was glad, but I 
could almost see myself as lonely as I was 
before I was married. I have seen so many 
cases where the baby completely changed the 
home because the mother forgot everything 
except the baby. I had prepared myself for 
such a change, but, Nett, you have managed 
so well that we both have gotten full share 
of your love.” 

“Yes, Walter, I have often discussed such 
cases with my friends, and have repeatedly 
said it was a mistake that could be easily 
avoided if the mother was careful. I have 
said also that the wife and husband should 
always put each other before the children. 
This may seem hard, but it should be done. 
Children grow up and, however much we 
love them, they leave home. I tried v/hen 
little Nett was born to avoid this error. ” 

“You have not only tried, but you have 
done so, Nett,” said her husband, affection- 
ately. 

When little Nett was four years old and 
was going to the kindergarten, Nett became 
very lonely. Dr. Lionel noticed this and 
when he questioned her, she said, “I suppose 
I have rested so much until I am tired of 
resting; the baby is going to school and you 


THE RESENTMENT 


201 


are busy; I am most of the time alone.” 

Dr. Lionel made no reply, but while mak- 
ing his calls that day he thought seriously 
over what she had said and decided to let her 
help him one afternoon and evening each 
week. 

On his return that evening he told Nett 
of his proposition. She was very much 
pleased and said, “You are the dearest man 
alive, Walter. ,, 

In a few weeks he noticed a decided 
change in her. The bloom returned to her 
face and there was a complete return of the 
old self. “I believe she would have died had 
1 kept her from her work much longer,” he 
thought. 

It was soon known that Nett was helping 
in the office every Wednesday . On that day 
the waiting rooms would be overcrowded. 
So many persons called for her that the doc- 
tor decided to let her help him a little each 
day. How she worked! Nett was in her 
“Seventh Heaven/’ 

Early one morning she got a check from 
Silas for several thousand dollars ; it was ac- 
companied by a little note, saying: 

“Dear Nett: Enclosed is a check from 
Margaret and me. We want you to take 


202 


THE RESENTMENT 


this, and with it do the thing that will bring 
3^011 the most happiness. Spend all of this 
for that one thing. We shall forward this 
amount to you \ r early for that cause, what- 
ever it may be. 

“Very truly yours, 

' “SILAS and MARGARET.” 

When she told her husband, he said, “It 
is yours ; do whatever you wish with it.” 

No painter could paint, nor bards write, 
nor psalmodists sing of the supreme joy that 
swept through her heart as she stood with 
this gift in her hand. It had been her wish, 
her hope, her day dream — some day to erect 
a building where women could go to get free 
medical treatment from the best women doc- 
tors and nurses obtainable, and remain there 
until the}^ became capable of caring for 
themselves. But she never thoughth that 
she would ever be able to do that thing her - 
self. Dr. Lionel told her that she could not 
do a better thing. “I do not know of any- 
thing that would be more appreciated by the 
people or bring 3^011 more happiness,” he said. 

In answer to Silas’ letter that evening she 
said: “I have tried every word in the Eng- 
lish language to express my happiness and 
thankfulness, but I cannot find one. So I 


THE RESENTMENT 


203 


shall let you see in the near future that 
which I most desire.” 

Some months later at a certain hospital 
workmen were busy building an annex to 
the main building. Many had already heard 
it was Miss Nett’s — as she was generally 
called — gift to the hospital. The interior of 
the building was beautifully finished. Nett 
purposely had this building made more 
home-like than an ordinary hospital, so that 
the patients would feel more satisfied to 
stay. There was a beautiful rest room with 
a large, open fireplace and handsome book- 
case containing many interesting books by 
Colored authors ; a large dining room, a sun 
parlor and a small lecture room to grace the 
first floor. 

Nett directed all the most important ar- 
rangements. The staff was composed of 
the best women doctors and nurses she could 
secure. To these she gave her orders : “There 
must be no hurrying here; each patient 
must receive full justice of your ability and 
knowledge. 

“There must be patience exerted by all. 
You must not only be able to administer pro- 
fessionally, but also be able to give encour- 
agement to the least hopeful. 


204 


THE RESENTMENT 


“It is my urgent request that these or- 
ders be strictly followed.” 

Nett had advertised for a special nurse; 
she had just heard several applicants when 
she was surprised to find the last one was 
Miss Dunn. The two girls clasped hands; 
for a few moments there were no words. 
“And we meet again,” said Katie. “Yes,” 
answered Nett, smiling. 

Nett called one of the doctors and said: 
“We need look no further because I have 
found the nurse who is capable of filling this 
position; we can give the general manage- 
ment entirely into her care.” “Goodness! 
Nett, you don’t know whether I came for a 
position or as a patient.” 

“I am taking it for granted. One look at 
you would readily convince us that you are 
not applying for medical treatment.” 

“Well, looks don’t always tell, you know, 
Nett, and besides you don’t know whether 
I would accept the position,” said Katie 
Dunn. 

“That is why I am accepting it for you,” 
she replied. 

“And do you think I can worthily fill the 
position? Suppose I might break some of 
the rules?” 

“Now, Katie, I will not have any 'sup- 


THE RESENTMENT 


205 


poses’ ; I know more about the incident that 
you are referring to than you do. We will 
say nothing more about it. let 'the dead past 
bury its dead., ” 

Katie took the position. She became a 
frequent visitor at the home of Dr. Lionel; 
they spent many happy hours together. 

After the building was completed. Nett 
wrote asking Silas and Margaret to come 
and see what a beautiful diamond she had 
bought with her gift. They were both puz- 
zled at Nett’s, letter. “Think of Nett buy- 
ing diamonds and inviting us all the way to 
Philadelphia to see it ! Why, jewelry was 
the last thing I would have thought of her 
buying,” said Silas. 

“Why Silas, that was perfectly all right; 
we told her to buy whatever she wanted 
most, did we not?” 

“Yes. but it seems so odd for her, Mar- 
garet.” 

“That means that you don’t quite under- 
stand women. We are all odd; some a little 
more so than others.” 

“But the thing I want to know is, are we 
going.” 

“Yes, if my sister has taken that money 
and bought diamonds, it is worth going to 
the end of the world to see,” said Silas so 


206 


THE RESENTMENT 


seriously that Margaret nearly laughed her- 
self into hysterics. 

“1 can’t see anything so funny, Margaret 
(impatiently).” 

“Dear, don’t be angry, I couldn’t help 
laughing, you seem so disappointed.” 

They left for the city a few days later, 
arriving there early in the morning. Nett 
and her husband talked of many different 
things, but neither said anything of the dia- 
monds. This puzzled them more than ever. 

It was late in the afternoon when Nett 
suggested that they all go driving in the 
car with Dr. Lionel when he went to make 
his calls. When Dr, Lionel stopped in front 
of the hospital, Margaret said, “How well 
I remember this place.” “Would you like 
to go in?” asked Nett. 

“Very much, indeed, Nett; and I am sure 
Silas will be glad to see once more the place 
where you obtained the knowledge of your 
profession and spent many years of hard 
work.” 

As they started up to the main entrance 
Margaret saw the new annex and exclaim- 
ed, “O, they have erected a new building — 
I didn’t know that.” 

“Come, we’ll go in and see it,” said Nett. 

When they entered the beautiful rest 


THE RESENTMENT 


207 


room, Margaret stood with clasped hands, 
“isn’t this wonderful?” she exclaimed. “I 
never saw anything so well arranged in my 
life.” Both she and Silas admired the place. 
“Have my parents seen it, Nett?” 

“No, it has been completed only a week 
and we intend to invite the public to a 
formal opening later, and I hope to have 
your father as one of the speakers.” 

“How do you like it, brother?” 

“I think it is great, Nett.” 

Then Nett said, “I am glad that you both 
like my ‘diamond.’ ” 

Silas and Margaret stood looking amaz- 
ed at their sister. 

“This is the diamond I wrote and asked 
you to come and see.” 

“Well, Margaret, this solves the puzzle.” 

“Silas could not understand why on earth 
you would buy a diamond with the money,” 
Margaret explained, 

“Yes, it did seem queer to me because I 
had secretly thought of something like this, 
we might have over-estimated what it was 
like.” 

Hundreds of women visited this part of 
the hospital weekly. It was said this was 
the hospital owned and lontrolled by Col- 
colored people where women were properly 


208 


THE RESENTMENT 


treated by doctors of their own race and 
sex. 

Nett made three weekly visits to the hos- 
pital; two afternoons she set apart to lec- 
ture to boys and girls between twelve and 
sixteen years of age. She gave a series of 
lectures on Ethics and Care of Self ; she con- 
sidered this a most important part of a child’s 
education which she found so badly neglected 
during her time as slum district and com- 
munity nurse. 

In addition to this, she issued pamphlets 
appealing to parents to eliminate all false 
modesty and teach their children the things 
that they should know ere they reach the 
age of puberty; thus preventing the ruina- 
tion of so many voting lives — that we may 
have a cleaner and stronger generation in the 
future. 

So to Nett Miller-Lionel, may she 

“Reap her joys in the sweet bye and bye, 

By the seed she sows today.” 


CHAPTER XIII. 


TWO GREAT MEN MEET 

The Frenn, Silas Miller’s beautiful home, 
surrounded by trees and shrubbery, stood 
in magnificent splendor upon a hill with its 
beautiful lawns sloping towards the main 
road. It was considered the most complete 
estate in that section of the country. One 
could hardly recognize it as being the same 
place that he purchased immediately after 
his first big sale, twenty-six years previous. 

It was a beautiful day in the latter part 
of June; it had been very hot and sultry; 
the sun was slowly wending her way toward 
the western horizon, while a cooling breeze 
gently blew across the lawn. Silas walked 
up and down the broad piazza with his 
hands folded behind him. apparently in deep 
thought. Taking a closer look at him we 
find him the same shrewd, keen, conscien- 
tious man now as in earlier years. His once 
dark hair is graying. Everywhere one could 
see wealth and success. He looks and is 
happy. A portly, pleasant faced woman 


210 


THE RESENTMENT 


came out on the porch and called, “Daddy, 
dear, are you having a cake- walk out here 
all alone?” 

“No, dear; I am thinking.” 

“Of what, please tell me?” 

“Of you.” 

“Oh, Silas, for goodness sake don’t you 
ever get tired of flattering me? Do respect 
my old age and gray hair,” said Mrs. Mil- 
ler, laughingly. 

“But, dear, Margaret, do you know that 
it was just twenty-six years ago this month 
that three of the happiest events that ever 
occurred in my life took place? I had my 
first big sale, you became my promised wife, 
and Nett was graduated from the nurses’ 
training school.” 

“At that time I thought you were the 
dearest girl alive.” 

“And do you think of me now?” 

Walking over to her, he took her face be- 
tween his hands and looking deep into her 
eyes he said, “at that time I thought , but 
now I know.” 

Tn all these years Silas never forgot to 
give her the praise that a wife so hungers 
for; she was his partner and companion. 
He had always thanked God for giving him 
such a good woman. With her he had pass- 


THE RESENTMENT 


211 


ed the twenty -sixth milestone of married 
life; she had helped him to bridge many 
difficulties that mark the path of man striv- 
ing to reach success ere life’s evening tinges 
his brow with sunset glow. 

Silas Miller stood and looked back over 
that path, and vividly recalled the source 
from which all his success had sprung. He 
said, “Margaret, I was thinking of what one 
writer said: 'Our chief want in life is some- 
one to make us do what we can do.’ ” 

“If Mr. Baxter had not continued to call 
me a 'nigger’ I would have been working 
for him or someone else today. At that 
time that word seemed to me to be the worst 
word that could be uttered by human lips of 
a civilized individual. 

“I have learned that when we help our- 
selves, others will help us. It has been a 
great misunderstanding among many per- 
sons of our race that the white man hates 
us: but I have found that the intelligent 
white man honors and respects the intelli- 
gent and prosperous black man. 

“After I had got started and he saw that 
I meant to go on, who gave me more en- 
couragement than Mr. Baxter? He not 
only purchased stock from me yearly, but 
sent many other farmers to me.” 


212 


THE RESENTMENT 


Although rich and prosperous, Silas was 
much beloved by all. The white people hon- 
ored him because of his ability and worth; 
the colored people loved him because he was 
their very own. The boys of his schooldays 
— now men— gathered annually to renew 
the vow they made years ago. Then, there 
were twenty-eight; now there are only ten 
living. 

Mr. and Mrs. Kempt had visited the farm 
often. After the first visit. Mrs. Kempt said 
to her husband, “Henry. I am glad you were 
firm in your decision that we should let Mar- 
garet choose her own husband. Nothing but 
your firmness would have made me give 
over at that time; but I am so glad that 
you took matters into your own hands, or 
our child might have been very unhappy. 
Leonard Morgan has already been twice di- 
vorced, and is now said to be infatuated 
with some young actress.” 

“That is the reason why I urged that she 
be let alone. I had helped to untie so many 
unhappy marriages that I did not want to 
sit and listen to someone untie mv daugh- 
ter's” 

They had had their wish; they had seen 
their daughter’s children. While she was 
not a society leader she was a true wife, a 


THE RESENTMENT 


213 


•good mother and a happy woman. What 
more could parents wish? 

Now they slept the sleep from which none 
ever awakes. 

Aunt Mollie Noble who had grown old and 
feeble had repeatedly said of 'Margaret, 
‘‘She does beat anything ah ever seen. I doan 
say dat Silas did bad after all.” Margaret 
often visited Aunt Mollie. In spite of all 
Aunt Mollie had said, they became warm 
friends. When she was very sick, and dy- 
ing, Margaret went every day to see her 
and took her nourishing food. She mar- 
veled at the great child-like faith the dying 
woman had in God; when in great pain, she 
would say, “De Lord doan put an)" more on 
his chilli den dev’s able to bear.” And just 
before she died she whispered, “I’se goin’ 
home, Mis’ Margaret.” 

Dr. Lionel and Nett visited the farm as 
often as was convenient; they could never 
stay long as his large and extensive prac- 
tice demanded their time in the city. 

Silas’ two younger sons had completed 
the Agricultural course at Tuskegee and 
were working with their father. 

The two older ones had attended school 
in the North; one was graduated from law 
-school and the other was State Instructor 


214 


THE RESENTMENT 


in canning fruits and vegetables in the State 
of Texas. 

Silas and Margaret were proud of their 
children. He had never ceased to be chums 
with them since that day Margaret called 
his attention to his unintentional neglect of 
them. 

He had just finished saying to Margaret, 
“I wish I could show hundreds of young 
men of my race the way to success.” 

“Yes, dear, but you cannot do it by your- 
self; it will take the co-operation of the 
people of the race. We can do our best; but 
time and the evolution of circumstances will 
bring about that which we so earnestly de- 
sire. As it is, we see a nation rising slowly 
up out of the dust — with most most of its 
future before it.” 

“Yes, Margaret, and we should be proud 
to be members of that race; and I shall — .” 

A beautiful car turned into the lane and 
came slowly toward the house. Silas took 
his hat and went down to see who his new 
visitors were. One gentleman had gotten 
out and had turned to assist an elderly, 
white-haired man out. 

“Hello, there, Miller.” 

“Why, it’s Mr. Baxter,” said Silas. “It 
has been several years since I saw you.” 


THE RESENTMENT 


215 


“I am indeed glad to see you,” said Mr. Bax- 
ter, shaking hands. “Do von know who this 
is?” 

Silas looked and then exclaimed, “Why, 
it's Mr. Walker ” 

Both men clasped hands as only men do 
when they are truly glad to meet. 

“And you know me!” 

“Know you! Could I forget the man who 
gave me the first money and the first en- 
couragement to start in life? This is the 
fruit of your encouragement and my labor,” 
he said, with a sweep of his hand. 

Walking to the porch he called Margaret, 
and in introducing her. said, “Mr. Walker, 
this is my jewel!” 

Both men laughed heartily. Their visit 
was short; Mr. Walker was getting old and 
could not stay out late. 

Preparing to leave he shook hands, sayin, 
“You’ve done well, Miller ; I shall not come 
East again; I am getting too old to travel. 
My days are nearly done. Good-bye, and 
may God bless you with a long life to enjoy 
the fruits of your labors.” 

As they drove down the beautiful drive, 
both men lifted their hats and said good- 
bye. 

In the vanishing twilight, Silas and Mar- 


216 


THE RESENTMENT 


garet walked slowly back to the porch. 

Silas Miller had made good his vowsr 
“And — we’ll take off our hats to each other.” 
THE END. 


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